Number Seven
by Sara Holmes
Summary: HP/DM Harry already has two children, an ex-wife, annoying colleagues and an international crime ring to deal with. So when Draco Malfoy reappears after eight years AWOL in France, of course Harry is going to leave him well alone...Right? WARNINGS INSIDE
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Number Seven

**Author:** Sara Holmes

**Summary: **Harry already has small children, an ex-wife, annoying colleagues and an international crime ring to deal with. So when Draco Malfoy reappears after eight years AWOL in France, of course Harry is going to leave him well alone...Right?

**Pairing:** Harry/Draco, other side pairings.

**Rating:** M overall.

**Disclaimer:** All the recognisable people and content belong to JKRowling. I'm not making any profit and am doing this for amusement only.

**Warnings:** Swearing, fighting, a certain someone being previously employed as a rentboy (it doesn't happen in the timespan of the story and is only referred to as past activity), references to violence, injuries, drinking, sexual content, involvement with crime and one instance of attempted thievery. Oh, and small children. They deserve a warning.

**Authors note:** This has been a long time coming, and I'm so happy to finally get it posted. It will probably fall somewhere between Mental and Get Some in length, but I don't know until it's 100% finished and edited. Updates will be every Thursday unless anything goes seriously awry. I'm having great fun with this piece, I hope you all enjoy it too :) Additional disclaimer: I know very little French, hence a dictionary and google being my new best friends.

Thank you to multicolouredfloopowder for the ongoing feedback :)

* * *

><p><strong>Number Seven<strong>

**Chapter 1**

"Harry! There you are! Can you do us a favour?"

Harry Potter groaned and slumped forwards against his office door which he had just been about to open and sneak through. His hand was still resting on the doorknob and his forehead pressed against the golden lettering on his window that read _Harry Potter - Muggle Liaison Officer._

"Now?" he whined, turning his head to see Auror Roberts hurrying down the corridor towards him, scroll of parchment in hand and looking harassed. Well, more harassed than usual, which was saying something.

"Yes, _now,_" Roberts said as he reached Harry, who still hadn't made any effort to stand up straight. "Need you to do a pick-up near the North Park – area twenty two."

"That's not my job, that's Ellis's job," Harry said, looking at Robert's with an innocent expression on his face. "I'm not meant to do pick-ups. I'm only issued clearance to deal with Muggles, and you _know_ Kingsley doesn't like me doing other people's jobs or going out of my district-"

"Stop being an arse, Potter," Roberts snapped and Harry grinned, pushing himself back away from the door and facing him. "There's a Wizard causing a fuss outside a Muggle pub - blind drunk apparently - and we need to go pick him up before he completely trounces the Statute of Secrecy. He's already pushing it, but the blokes who spotted him aren't authorized to bring him in-"

"Neither am I." Harry grumbled. "Look, I'm meant to clock off at five, I've got one of the kids tonight-" Harry tried, his hand still resting hopefully on the doorknob. He'd only just got back from Obliviating a Muggle who had stumbled across two bickering wizards who had drawn wands and were threatening to curse each other. He loved his job; he really did, but he was bloody knackered and wanted to go _home_.

"I know," Roberts interrupted with badly hidden impatience, rubbing his beard as the scowl on his grizzled face deepened. "But the guys who found him are only misuse of artefacts guys, and we've had a break on the Hightops case and I'm taking Ellis with me incase anyone needs Obliviating or bringing in-"

"Can't I go on that?" Harry interrupted, instantly perking up. "Ellis can go get the piss-head-"

"Sod off, Potter," Roberts snapped. "That's way above your pay grade. Now take your Obliviator arse up to twenty-two and fetch whoever it is making a scene. They've put a Hunting Hex on him so all you need to do is-"

"Yes, yes, I know, I'll find him. Just a pick up, right?" Harry asked in resignation, casting one last look of longing at his office door before letting his hand slide off of the doorknob.

"Yes. Pick him up, bring him back, dump him in a cell, Obliviate anyone if he's said too much, or just tell them he's crazy," Roberts said, looking relieved, running a hand over his short grey hair and down over his lined face. "I owe you one, Potter."

"You owe me more than one," Harry grouched, walking beside Roberts as they made their way to the floo grates in the atrium.

"Pecking order," Roberts said, looking down at the parchment in his hand. "You've been here four years, I've been here twenty. Suck it up."

"Yes captain," Harry grinned. He liked Roberts, mainly because the man gave Harry no preferential treatment, none at all. He had been an Auror for twenty-one years, was old and grumpy and everyone knew it.

"Shut up."

Harry snorted with laughter and leant over slightly, peering at the papers in Roberts's hands. He made a noise of protest as Roberts sharply jerked them to the side, moving them out Harry's line of vision.

"You don't need to know, Potter."

"Oh, go on," Harry wheedled as Roberts nodded curtly at an Unspeakable passing in the other direction. "You owe me."

"Owing you constitutes of foisting your paperwork off onto one of my interns, or buying you a pint, _not_ telling you all about the Hightops case," Roberts said, rolling up the papers and smacking Harry around the back of the head with them. "Stop being so nosey."

"It's the most interesting thing to happen in ages-" Harry said, rubbing the back of his head as they stepped into a lift, the golden grills clanking shut after them.

"Oh yes, seemingly untraceable organised crime involving millions of pounds worth of diamonds, missing wizards and several high profile Muggle murders – that's what you'd call _interesting_, is it now?" Roberts asked, his gruff voice full of sarcasm.

"Oh, yeah," Harry said, ducking another swat with the papers and hastily amending his answer. "Well, I suppose there are better words for it than _interesting…_"

"A fucking nightmare is what I'd call it," Roberts said grimly. "Look, boy, you were the one who quit Auror training and opted for being an Obliviator," he said, ignoring Harry's weary and worn-out correction of '_Muggle Liason Officer._' "If you'd not been such a pansy about everyone recognising you, you could have been an Auror, got in on the Hightops case and wouldn't be dealing with _boring_ Muggles day in day out."

"Alright, point made," Harry said grumpily, stepping out of the lift into the bustling Atrium. "I just wanted to know, is all."

"So does everyone else," Roberts said, weaving his way through the crowd towards the fireplaces, Harry following just behind. "Can't tell you anymore than I'm allowed, Potter."

"You'll have to tell me off the record when you take me for this pint you owe me," Harry called as he stopped beside a grate, Roberts marching on towards the next one.

"Nice try, Golden Boy," Roberts shouted back, stepping into a grate without a backwards glance, disappearing in a whirl of flames.

Harry snorted with laughter, shaking his head before stepping into the grate, bracing himself. He'd just have to go and get this over and done with, and then he could – _finally_ - go home.

* * *

><p>Harry could hear the shouts of excitement and laughter before he even rounded the corner onto the square where the Hunting Hex had led him. He'd floo'd out to one of the many points around London - this one disguised as an out-of-order portable toilet - and had barely walked for thirty seconds before the sound of the disturbance reached his ears.<p>

"Fucking Roberts," he muttered, pulling out his wand and casting the charm to turn his clothing into that reminiscent of a Muggle police offer. Navy blue uniform, of course; the luminous yellow option was _not_ a look any of the team liked sporting. It was the easiest option when dealing with a hopefully small-ish group of Muggles - this way he could get them to piss off and deal with the wizard who was causing the problem. He knew well how to go about taking in Wizards who were causing a scene in Muggle areas; the whole team of Obliviators knew so they could collaborate with the guys who did the actual pick-ups. Or so they could get sent out on them when everyone else was busy doing fun stuff, apparently.

He rounded the corner and immediately saw a group of six or seven Muggles stood next to a open square fountain which stood in the centre of a cobbled square. They were all cheering and clapping, and as the sound as splashing reached his ears, he realised with a sinking feeling that the noise wasn't caused solely by the spray of water which served as a centrepiece for the fountain. No, what was causing the noise was his target, who was currently swimming around near the centre of said fountain. The inconsiderate, drunken, _twat_.

He was going to hex Roberts for this.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, and breathed out deeply. _You can go home when this is over, _he told himself. _Twenty minutes max._

"Right then, mind moving on?" Harry called, clapping his hands as he walked over to the group, who all turned at the sound of his voice. Two of them immediately sloped off but the rest didn't move, looking eagerly between Harry and the drunk, obviously excited for a showdown.

"Got us a swimmer," one said with a cackle as Harry came to stand in front of them.

"I can see that, now go on back to what you were doing so I can get him out," Harry said firmly. The man grumbled but moved sideways slightly; just enough so that Harry had a clear view of the fountain.

His jaw dropped.

"_Malfoy?"_

Flailing around in the middle of the fountain was Draco Malfoy. As Harry watched, flabbergasted, he span around unsteadily before tripping over his own feet, falling forwards with a splash. To the sounds of delighted shrieks and laughter from the crowd, he resurfaced, coughing, spluttering and pushing his hair off of his forehead.

"Christ," Harry managed to breathe out, his expression horrified. He was going to _kill_ Roberts. There was no mistaking him: that pointed chin, the pale complexion, that hair…fucking _Malfoy_.

"Alright, boss?" The man asked curiously, and with the force of a bludger Harry remembered exactly where he was and what he was meant to be doing.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, and then pushed past the man and approached the edge of the fountain. Malfoy was now floating on his back, drifting slowly, and from what Harry could hear, bloody _humming_ to himself.

Where the fuck was this in his Muggle Liaison handbook?

He'd not seen Malfoy in, what, eight years? And now the tosser had turned up in a fountain in the middle of Muggle London, pissed out of his face. Now he was closer, Harry could see subtle differences in how Malfoy looked eight years on; for a start he could see he was a lot taller, even though he'd only seen him stood upright for a brief moment. His hair was shorter – as short as Harry's and sticking up every which way because of the water - and he was as scrawny as ever. His thin frame looked positively breakable clad in sopping wet tight black jeans - _jeans!_ A Malfoy in _denim_ - and a fitted plain black T-shirt.

Frankly, he looked a state.

Harry's mind quickly assessed the situation and came up with only one conclusion: his only option was to get Malfoy out of the fountain as quickly as possible, take him back to the Ministry and _then_ work out what the bloody buggering _fuck_ was going on.

"Malfoy," he called, his voice low. Malfoy immediately jerked around and sat up, water dripping off of him as he looked at Harry.

"Hello there, sir!" he called, sounding delighted. "Come and join me, the water's lovely. The Muggles won't swim, scared of getting wet. No nifty drying charms to sort them out, the idiots."

He flung himself backwards with a splash again and Harry cursed under his breath as the crowd behind him started laughing again.

"Get out of there, or I'm going to drag you out," he called. Malfoy rolled over lazily in the water so he was floating on his front, stretching his neck so his face was out of the water, just lapping his chin.

"Go on then," he drawled. "Levitate me out, I dare you. Don't stun me though, I might drown."

Harry growled as Malfoy lowered his face so his mouth was under the water, happily blowing bubbles with his mouth. If Malfoy didn't shut his trap about Muggles and levitating, Harry was going to physically knock him out, risk of drowning be damned. He was _not_ in the mood for systematically Obliviating seven Muggles just because Malfoy couldn't shut the fuck up.

"_Malfoy-_" Harry snapped. The bubbles stopped and he saw the tell-tale smirk curve Malfoy's lips, indicating that he had no intention of co-operating.

"Oh, fuck you," Harry muttered, losing his patience. He shook his wand down out of his sleeve so the tip was just visible, and waved it over the Muggles under the guise of scratching his head, muttering under his breath.

"Weren't we off for a drink?" one of the Muggles suddenly asked his friend, sounding confused.

"Yeah…" another replied, sounding equally vague. "Yeah, let's go back to the Bell."

To Harry's relief, the crowd all slowly drifted away to a respectable distance, leaving him alone with Malfoy. Alone with Malfoy was not a situation he wanted to be in really, but he'd rather not have an audience for what he was about to do. He supposed it was a small blessing that Malfoy was three sheets to the wind and didn't even seem to recognise him, or remember to get his wand out.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw the Muggles still visible on the other side of the square. Shit. He didn't dare casting any charms with how close they were, which left only one option.

"I hate you," Harry snapped, eyes fixed on the blond as he slung one leg over the stone wall of the fountain and stepped into the water. He gritted his teeth; the water was fucking cold despite the mild June weather and the feeling of water flooding his shoes and drenching his socks was not pleasant. Malfoy didn't even look his way as Harry climbed all the way in, pushed away from the wall and waded over to him through the knee deep water, cursing violently.

"Malfoy, come on!" Harry reached over and grabbed Malfoy under his arms, yanking him up. Draco flailed for a moment and then grabbed Harry's wrists, struggling up onto his knees and then squinting up at Harry's face.

"Hello," he slurred, one eye open.

Harry gaped. "Christ, you're _hammered_."

Malfoy nodded. "Completely car-parked," he sighed. He swayed slightly, his body bowing and Harry had to move his feet to stop them both from falling. Malfoy looked down at the water and then up at Harry again, both his eyes now open. "Hello," he repeated. "I'm Jack."

Harry stared down at him. "No you're not, you idiot."

"I am," Malfoy replied, eyes wide and full to the brim of drunk sincerity. "Jack. Jack Daniels. Pleased to meet you."

Harry resisted the urge to throttle him, despite the want that was steadily growing and making his fingers itch. "Your name is _not_ Jack Daniels," he ground out through gritted teeth.

"It is." Malfoy nodded eagerly. "Someone had put my name on my bottle for me-"

Harry cried out in frustration. "Your name is _not _Jack Daniels, you've been _drinking_ Jack Daniels!"

Malfoy's eager expression gave way to one of genuine perplexity. "Really?"

"For fuck's sake," Harry snapped. "Come on. You're causing a scene in a Muggle area and I've been told to take you to the Ministry. Section four, code fifty-two before you try and sue me or anything."

Draco made a noise of protest as Harry seized him under the arms once more and stepped backwards, dragging Draco with him through the water. Harry didn't stop; he just wanted this sod out of the fountain and back to the Ministry as quickly as possible.

"Who am I then, if I'm not Jack Daniels?" Malfoy asked, his tone conversational as Harry continued to drag him bodily across the fountain to the edge.

"Draco Malfoy. Get out," Harry said tersely, dropping him and kicking him in the thigh to make him get out of the fountain.

"That's a strange name. You're very bossy," Draco frowned, reaching for the edge of the fountain and hauling himself out, his T-shirt riding up and revealing the pale expanse of his back in the process. He managed to climb over the wall, but was less successful at standing up on the other side: he lurched forwards when he tried to take a step and fell onto his hands and knees on the cobbles.

"How drunk are you?" Harry asked, amazement over-riding his anger now they were both out of the water.

Draco shifted over so he was sat on his arse and held out his hands in an indication for Harry to pull him up. They were covered in bits of leaf and dirt, and he flexed his fingers expectantly, hiccupping as Harry stared down at him. "Very."

Glancing around the square, Harry sighed as he saw two more people stood on the other side, leaning against the wall of the pub with cigarettes in hand, watching them with interest. Their new little audience were too far away to cast a _Confundus _over like he'd done with the last lot, so that meant no charms to dry either of them off, and no instant Apparation out of this fiasco. Frowning, Harry's gaze flicked back to Malfoy and he did a double take.

Malfoy had had his ears pierced.

A small, glittering stud in each earlobe, small enough to be missed unless you looked twice. Harry couldn't believe it: Draco Malfoy, pure-blood elitist, perfect, pristine Draco Malfoy had been AWOL for eightyears and then turned up…with his ears pierced.

"Come on," Malfoy said impatiently, waving his hands about and startling Harry out of his reverie. "Help."

Harry mentally shook himself and managed to remember what he was supposed to be doing. He knelt down beside Malfoy and ran his hands quickly over his chest and then his hips, looking for the telltale bump of a concealed wand.

"Hey, what the hell?" Malfoy asked with alcoholised dignity, batting Harry's hands away with no small amount of effeminate flailing. "Stop groping me-"

"Wand," Harry managed to bite out. "Now."

"Oh!" Draco fell back and struggled for a moment, lifting his left leg in the air and reaching ineffectually for his ankle. He scowled at his feet and then fell sideways, curling up in the foetal position and reaching for the hem of his trouser leg. He pulled it up with difficulty and Harry immediately saw his wand strapped to his lower leg. Wanting it in his possession and hidden as quickly as possible, Harry attempted to knock Malfoy's fumbling fingers out of the way, but Malfoy glared at him and jerked his leg away.

Harry immediately drew his hands away, feeling alarmed and at once anticipating Draco trying to hex him once his wand was free. However, before he could even get his own wand out of his sleeve and process the words _stupefy_, Malfoy got his free and held the familiar length of Hawthorn out for Harry to take.

"There you are, officer," he drawled, looking up at Harry through one eye again.

Harry took the wand with more than a little surprise, quickly followed by suspicion. Normally, any encounter in which a witch or wizard was requested to surrender their want didn't go as smoothly; there was often tantrums, threats, refusals and at the very least whining and pleading. He couldn't blame them really; on the few occasions he had lost his wand it had felt like losing a limb, and left him feeling horrifically vulnerable. But here was Malfoy, handing his over like it was something he did every day.

And considering how long Harry had kept his wand the last time he'd taken it…Harry wouldn't blame Malfoy if he'd decided to make Harry promise he'd actually give it back.

"What are you even doing here?" Harry finally asked, standing up and slipping Malfoy's wand up his sleeve alongside his own. Draco sat back up and held his hands out once more, that expectant look back on his pointed face. Sighing, Harry took hold of Malfoy's bony hands and pulled him to his feet. Draco was as unsteady on his feet as before and fell into Harry's chest with an _ooft_. As he attempted to straighten up, swaying dangerously, Harry's eyes were drawn to one of the small studs set in Draco's earlobe. They didn't look _bad_, he supposed. They just looked…different. Unexpected.

Draco beamed at him, slinging an arm around Harry's neck and making him stumble, finally breaking his gaze. "Swimming."

"Swimming. You were-" Harry tried and gave up, shaking his head and wondering whether to laugh or cry. "Come on, this way."

Malfoy didn't question where 'this way' was, but allowed Harry to lead him away from the fountain, slowly dripping water all over both the cobbles and Harry. Harry took hold of Malfoy's wrist to pull his arm more securely over his shoulders, and as he did he caught sight of the faded Dark Mark on Draco's forearm. So, they hadn't disappeared the moment Voldemort had died, as some publications had suggested. It was a dull burnt brown, considerably faded but still noticeable against Draco's pale skin. Harry shivered and turned his eyes away.

"Do I know you?" Malfoy asked, leaning sideways to observe Harry with narrowed eyes and making him stagger again.

"Yes, you do. We've known each other for about sixteen years. You hate me. Keep walking," Harry said, pulling Draco's arm more securely over his shoulders, and then against his better judgement, slipped one around his waist to keep him upright. At that precise moment in time, he really didn't know which was winning; his curiosity about where the hell Malfoy had been and why he was such a state, or his desire to go home.

"I do not hate you," Draco argued indignantly, waving his free hand to emphasise his point. "You were merely a pain. A great, big, stupid, Gryffindor idiot."

"So you do know who I am?" Harry asked, his back and shoulders already aching. He looked around desperately and his eyes found a small narrow alley between a pub and the end of a run-down terrace.

"Potter," Malfoy replied, not missing a beat. He hiccoughed and stumbled on his next step, jarring Harry's neck.

"I don't believe this," Harry muttered, hauling Draco down across the road and down the alley between the buildings, hoping no-one had seen.

"T- taking me down an alley, eh - _hic_ - Potter?"

"Oh shut up," Harry snapped, glancing at Malfoy and huffing as his eyes met an amused smirk. He kept walking, roughly pulling Malfoy's arm a little more over his shoulder and making the git stumble.

_Home_, he suddenly decided. Bugger finding out about Malfoy right now, he wanted to go home. He'd ask around the Ministry and raid some files tomorrow. He probably wouldn't get any answers from Malfoy with him being in this state anyway.

Harry let go of him and attempted to prop him up against the wall. The stone was cold despite the warm weather, and the ground below was worn; dry, bare soil beneath their feet. Harry cringed and tried not to think about what an alley of this sort would _usually_ be used for.

"Think people have shagged down here?" Malfoy slurred, looking left and right, somehow mirroring Harry's thoughts. He started to slide sideways down the stone wall and Harry grabbed him by his shoulders, exasperated and alarmed.

"Shut_ up_," he repeated. "Do you feel up to Apparating?"

"Yes," Malfoy said, his head lolling on his shoulders and his eyes falling shut. "No. Hang on, what?"

"Oh, fuck you. Hold onto my arms," Harry said, still pinning Malfoy to the wall with his hands on his shoulders.

Malfoy raised his hands obediently and grabbed hold of Harry's forearms, just beneath his elbows. His head rocked forwards between their arms, bobbing slightly. His breathing was heavy and Harry felt a brief flash of acknowledgement at how Malfoy must be feeling at that moment: drunk, dizzy and disorientated. Hell, Harry could admit that he had been in the same position more than once; blind drunk with Ron propping him up against various walls, shooing away nosey passers by who wanted a glance of the Chosen One absolutely smashed.

Mentally shaking himself, Harry forced his mind back to the task in hand. That had been over four years ago, he told himself firmly, and only because of circumstance. He was over it now, no doubts. He had kids to support, a job to do, friends to spend quality time with, and an ex-wife to not wind up too much. Didn't leave much time for drinking binges.

"Malfoy," he said, his voice clear. Malfoy's head snapped up instantly, thudding against the stone wall behind him. He didn't seem to notice and Harry chose to ignore it.

"Yeah?" Malfoy asked, swallowing thickly, his hazy eyes on Harry's, and looking rather worse for wear.

"Take a deep breath in when I count to two, okay?" Harry said and Malfoy nodded slowly.

"One," Harry said, and Malfoy hiccupped. "Two-" Malfoy took a sharp deep breath in and thankfully held it- "Three."

Harry stepped back, Malfoy lurching with him as they vanished from the alley with a sharp crack.

* * *

><p>Harry should have known what would happen if he Apparated with a plastered Malfoy in tow, but his desire to get the prat back and passed onto someone else had overridden his common sense.<p>

Which was why the floor of the Muggle Relations Department apparition chamber and Harry's shoes were now both covered in sour smelling sick. Malfoy was slumped on the floor against Harry's legs, whimpering, swaying and his face a nasty shade of green.

Harry stared down at his feet for a few seconds and decided to forego a verbal outburst. Instead, he bent over and grabbed Malfoy by his collar, hauling him to his feet.

"Get off," Malfoy said weakly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Are you s-stupid, apparating after drinking?"

Harry ignored him and pressed his hand to the door which unlocked with a _thunk_ at his touch, a cool female voice announcing yet again that he was in the '_Muggle Relations Department. Non-malicious incidents with Muggles, minor breaches of statute of secrecy and Wizard collections from Muggle areas and related incidents. Crimes against Muggles must be taken to the Auror department, apparition chamber seven. Please prepare your subject for processing and have their wand ready for hand over.'_

At first Harry had been impressed when shown these handy apparition chambers that were connected to each department, but in retrospect he should have realised that Ministry employees weren't expected to drag suspects and criminals through the front foyer. The Ministry was a political showground up front, a nest of paperwork and bureaucracy in the middle, and a prison in the back.

"Your own fault for being that trollied," Harry, turning his attention back to Malfoy. "Come on. You're going in a cell until you dry out."

Malfoy sighed, and once again Harry was taken aback; rather than seeming put-out or annoyed, the sigh was clearly laced with a tone of _not this again. _It was the same as when Malfoy had handed over his wand, and the desire to know what had happened to Malfoy quickly flared up again. All the signs pointed to Malfoy having been arrested before, but then surely Harry would have heard about it?

"Merlin, Harry, I thought you'd gone home!"

A loud and exasperated voice crashed Harry's thought train and he winced, just as Draco frowned at the middle-aged witch who had spoken and opened his damned trap again.

"I'm _Draco_," he said slowly, as if talking to a deaf person. "Dra-co. Not _Harry_. Jesus."

Still sitting behind her desk with her hands on her book, the witch looked up at Harry, looking far from amused.

"Sorry, Marge." Harry sighed to her, simultaneously grabbing Draco's collar to hold him upright.

"I'm not processing him-" Marge said promptly, lifting her book back up and pushing her glasses up her nose. "He stinks."

"That's because he's drunk," Harry said. "Not my idea. Roberts said I had to fetch him. Just a simple pick up, that's it, I swear."

Marge's eyes flicked back up to Harry's face but her book didn't lower. "Hmm."

"Please," Harry pleaded. "I want to go home - I've got Al tonight and he'll pitch a fit if I'm not there before he goes to bed."

"Hmmm," Marge said again, but she put her book down and reached for her quill.

"Thank you," Harry said fervently, then lurched as Malfoy's legs gave out and he slithered down Harry's side to slump on the floor. He looked down at his feet in surprise and then smiled up at Harry, leaning his head against Harry's thigh and snaking his arms around Harry's legs, hugging them tightly and making balancing difficult.

"Hello," he said, blinking up at Harry and looking perfectly innocent and nothing like the bastard he was.

"Well he seems quite taken with you," Marge said with a raised eyebrow, pulling out a green sheet of parchment, then pausing. "Did you have to Obliviate anyone?"

"Nope," Harry said. "And he's not _taken with me_, I know him from school. He's a prat."

"I know you know him from school," Marge said, sounding bored and tapping the green sheet of parchment with her wand. "And I also know you didn't get on. Which doesn't explain why he's now hugging your thighs like they're the last pair he'll ever see."

Face flaming red, Harry tried to shake Malfoy off of his legs, too embarrassed to register Marge's first batch of words. "Christ, Malfoy, get off!"

Marge snorted with laughter. "Wand."

Giving up on his dignity for the remainder of the encounter, Harry tried to step out of Malfoy's grip one last time but failed miserably. He gave up and instead extricated Malfoy's wand from his sleeve and tossed it over onto Marge's desk.

She stopped it rolling with a finger and then tapped it once with her own wand, barely looking at it. She jotted a note on the form and then leant back to slip it into one of the many lock-boxes that lined the walls behind the processing desk. Harry knew that the numbers on the boxes corresponded with the numbers of the cells that lined the adjacent corridor, and he noted that Malfoy would be dumped in cell number 4 when his paperwork was finished.

"So, name- Malfoy, Draco…" she muttered as she started to ink in the form, her quill snatching back and forth. "Where did you find him?"

"Twenty two, in the run down bit near the Park," Harry told her. "Seen by a group of seven Muggles, using Wizarding vocab, Muggles given a light Confundus and left the scene with no fuss."

"Did he have his wand out?" Marge asked, scribbling away on the form.

"Nope," Harry said. "He was swimming."

Marge paused, looking down at Malfoy. "Swimming?"

"In a fountain," Harry told her, waving a hand dismissively.

"Potter wouldn't swim with me," Malfoy chimed in, his voice slurring, his face buried in Harry's thigh. "Wouldn't get wet."

Marge raised her eyebrow again and Harry felt himself flush, pointing at her and trying to seem remotely assertive. "You - not a word."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she said airily, stamping Malfoy's form briskly and then tapping it again with her wand before slipping it into the towering filing cabinet beside her. "Cell four."

"Thank you," Harry said as she picked her book back up, giving him a nod in reply. "Now come on you git, stand up."

"He's a Ministry guest now, Potter," Marge said, her eyes not leaving her book. "You better be nice to him."

"Course," Harry muttered, bending over and grabbing Malfoy under his arms for what seemed like the twentieth time that evening, heaving him to his feet. "Come along, sir."

Malfoy seemed to be all out of witty retorts and drunken logic because he simply grunted, rested his head against Harry's shoulder and allowed himself to be manhandled out of the processing room and along the corridor to his cell.

"So, going to explain what events led to me finding you drunk and swimming around in a fountain?" Harry asked, taking advantage of Malfoy's temporary placidity to pry. He was careful to keep his tone conversational; it worked wonders for getting answers from both criminals and his children.

Malfoy started to laugh, staggering slightly as he was hauled bodily along the corridor. "No," he said, a small smile on his lips.

"No?" Harry asked neutrally, coming to a stop beside a large grey door which had _MR4 – _Muggle Relations Cell 4 - stencilled on in black ink.

Malfoy slipped and slumped against the wall, suddenly and inexplicably glaring at Harry. "No."

"Fair enough," Harry said with a shrug, pointing his wand at the door and opening it. "In you go."

Malfoy pulled a face at him but obediently pushed himself off the wall and staggered into the cell, making a beeline for the bench along the back. "Get me a blanket."

Harry shook his head and watched Malfoy roll somehow gracefully onto the bench, lying flat on his back with one skinny arm dangling off the side. "Potter," Malfoy slurred, eyes already shut. "Blanket."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned away. "Sleep. I'll be talking to you in the morning and I'd like coherent sentences."

Malfoy didn't bother to reply, so Harry shut the door and locked it, standing still in the corridor and trying to collect his thoughts for a moment.

Bloody Malfoy. All grown up and suddenly back in Harry's life. He wondered what-

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry winced as he heard Marge's shriek echo down the corridor, presumably coming from the apparition chamber.

"YOU BETTER CLEAN THIS MESS UP IN THE NEXT THIRTY SECONDS OR I'LL BE HAVING WORDS WITH SHAW!"

Harry's shoulders slumped and he shuffled back along the corridor with a bad grace. All he had wanted to do was go home, he thought tiredly and somewhat petulantly. And now he had wet clothes, bruised shins, sore shoulders and had to spend the next ten minutes cleaning up Malfoy vomit from the chamber before Marge burst an artery and told on him to his boss.

Fucking _Malfoy._ Couldn't just bugger off out of Harry's life, now could he?

Course not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Dad dad dad dad dad!"

Harry braced himself as he stepped out of the floo and sure enough, within seconds a dark haired shadow barrelled through the living room, dodging around the sofa and skidding across the rug before hitting him around the midriff, hugging him tightly.

"Hey trouble," Harry said, grinning despite his weariness, keeping one hand on the mantelpiece to stop himself falling back into the fire. "Have you been good today?"

"Yeah," came a muffled voice and Harry laughed.

"Doubt it."

He leant over and grabbed Al around the middle, heaving him up and tossing him over his shoulder. Al squealed and wriggled, his feet kicking Harry in the chest.

"Busy day?" asked a mild voice from the other side of the room and Harry looked up to see Luna leaning against the doorway, smiling idly at the pair of them.

"Not until I had to do a pick up at five to five," Harry said with a grimace, keeping one hand on the wriggling four-year old who was still laughing and squirming, trying to get free, his feet coming dangerously close to the framed photos on the mantelpiece.

"That's a bit unfair, that's not your job," Luna said serenely, walking over to the door. "Come on, I made tea."

Harry followed her on her path down to the kitchen, still carrying Al. "Don't you need to go home?" he asked her. "You don't have to stay, I know you've had to wait."

"Oh, I know," she said. "But this pick-up sounds interesting."

Harry raised his eyebrows, smiling as he wondered for the millionth time just how Luna seemed to know when something interesting had happened that she might like to hear about. She rarely stopped for tea when Harry had had a boring day of paperwork.

"It was actually, guess who it was?"

They clattered down the stairs and when they reached the kitchen Harry dropped Al to the floor. Al made a noise of protest and instantly turned around, jumping up and clamouring to be picked up again, his hands in the air and tugging at Harry's shirt.

"You're clingy today," Harry mused, looking down at his son. It was like looking at a younger version of himself, and it still made him blink twice every now and again, especially when Al woke him up early in the mornings. He supposed that by the time he was eleven Al was going to be sick of everyone commenting on just how much he looked like his Dad.

Al glared back up at him, his arms outstretched. "You were late."

Harry chuckled and obliged, picking him up. Al immediately wound his arms around Harry's neck, resting his head on his shoulder and pulling at the hair on the back of Harry's head. He was tired, Harry could tell, which explained his tightly-wound and somewhat clingy behaviour.

They made their way to the kitchen table, sitting down at the end nearest the work-surfaces and kettle and furthest away from the stack of paperwork Harry was hoping would one day give up and vanish. Slipping onto a chair, Harry rearranged Al so he wasn't being elbowed in the chest, smiling as he breathed in the familiar smells of toast and coffee. The kitchen had to be one of Harry's favourite rooms in the house; it was deliciously warm in the winter when the fireplace was lit, and all of his friends seemed to navigate their way there on visits, in search of tea and the snacks hoarded in the pantry. The centrepiece of the room was the huge oak table, and Harry had many happy memories of he and his friends and children crowded around, sharing meals and moments together.

"Hmm, Zacharias Smith," Luna said, breaking into Harry's moment of reminiscing. He blinked at her and paused for a moment before remembering that she was answering his previous question.

"What? Oh, no, I've not seen him in _years_," Harry said, trying to remember the last time he had actually seen Smith. Just after Ginny's graduation from Hogwarts, maybe. Christ, that would have been over seven years ago - as if the four year old nestled in his arms didn't make him feel old enough already.

"Oh," Luna wrinkled her nose and pointed her wand over her shoulder, summoning the teapot and mugs over from the sideboard, which flew over haphazardly, landing on the table with a thud. "Hmm. Oliver Wood."

Harry started to laugh and Al lifted his head away from his shoulder to see if there was anything interesting that was casing the merriment. Seeing nothing to keep his attention, he settled back down with a put-out sigh.

"Wood wouldn't break the law if you paid him," Harry said, and Luna smiled as she poured out two mugs of tea. "Might get him suspended from the league, Merlin forbid."

"I suppose. Okay, tell me."

"Draco Malfoy."

Luna didn't say anything to begin with, just finished pouring the tea with a thoughtful expression on her face. She nudged Harry's over towards him.

"I wasn't expecting that," she said honestly. "Gosh, he's been gone for years, hasn't he? I don't know him very well, really. He tried to be mean to us when we were in his cellar but he wasn't very good at it. He brought us extra food sometimes, and then got angry about it and shouted."

Harry didn't reply, but smiled briefly and nodded, running his palm up and down Al's back, talking familiar comfort from the snuffling breaths against his collarbone. That sure sounded like Malfoy alright. Trying to act all hard and uncaring like Lucius and doing a crap job of it…

He paused. "Do you mind talking about him?" he asked tentatively, not wanting to upset Luna.

"Oh, not at all," Luna said with a small smile. "It wasn't his idea to lock us in the cellar. I don't think he really liked it at all. He always looked like he'd been crying, so I felt a bit sorry for him."

"You felt sorry for him?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Well, a bit," Luna said sincerely. "I mean, he was locked in the house which was probably just as bad as being locked in the cellar. At least in the cellar we were left alone. Where did you see him, anyway?"

"He was drunk and swimming around a fountain near some Muggles, had to stop him breaking the Statute of Secrecy. Threw me a bit," Harry admitted.

"I guess it would," Luna said mildly, sipping her tea as Harry added milk and sugar to his own with one hand, trying not to displace Al. "Have you spoken to him since you gave his wand back?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

Luna looked at him, watching him drinking his tea. "Do you still hate him, do you think?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I haven't for a long time. He was annoying, and he was a-" he caught himself before he swore, knowing Ginny would have his bollocks if Al went home with any more additions to his four letter vocabulary, "- a pain, but I think he's harmless. Always has been really. King of 'wrong place at the wrong time.'"

"I think he'd have been nice if he had a nicer Father," Luna said serenely, looking down into her tea. "His Mother was quite a good person."

"Yeah," Harry said, suddenly uncomfortable. He didn't know what to make of his encounter with Malfoy now he'd got time to think about it, really. He'd cleaned the apparition chamber, _scourgified_ his shoes, dried himself off and rushed home as soon as he possibly could… irritatingly with Malfoy still firmly embedded in his thoughts.

He didn't want to be obsessed with Malfoy again, honestly. He would grudgingly admit that maybe, yes, sixth year had been a bit weird and uncomfortable for everyone, what with him following Malfoy around day and night…but he couldn't afford to do this _now._

But there was no getting around it. He wanted to know, wanted to find out where the bastard had been, why he was a drunken wreck, why he'd turned up after seven years and why he'd had his sodding ears pierced.

"Will you ask about him tomorrow at work?" Luna asked and Harry threw her a rueful smile.

"I think so, yeah."

"Worried about him?" she asked.

Harry shrugged and Al made a disgruntled noise, wriggling a little in Harry's arms. "I don't know. Curious maybe. Feels like he's been…I don't know. Missing out of my life. He was always there…"

He trailed off, not quite knowing where his thoughts were taking his mouth. Luna just nodded in understanding and drained her mug of tea, standing up and summoning her bag.

"That makes sense," she said, even though Harry wasn't entirely sure he agreed. "I better go anyway. I'll see you later. Tomorrow morning to take this one to school, and then next week?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind. I've got this one Friday night, and James if he deigns to come with over. He's being a bit prickly."

"That's alright, Friday it is," Luna nodded and walked around the table to kiss both Harry and Al atop their heads.

"Thank you Luna," Harry said gratefully. "You're a lifesaver."

"No I'm not. I've got the free time and I know it's hard for you to get a babysitter that won't steal your things," Luna said sincerely and Harry bit back a laugh. "Just be careful. Draco comes with trouble."

Harry snorted with laughter, giving her a smile and a wave as she left. "Don't I just know it."

* * *

><p>"Can you read me the one about the Horntail too?" Al pleaded, hands gripping onto Harry's wrists as if for dear life. "Just once?"<p>

"Bedtime, mate," Harry said firmly, unable to help but smile. Funny how Al had done nothing but blink sleepily through the story Harry had just read to him, yet the moment Harry had tried to get up he appeared wide-awake again. "School in the morning."

"Please?" Al repeated, eyes wide. "It's nearly the holidays."

"I know, but it's not yet," Harry said, gently pulling Al's fingers from his wrists and gently guiding him back down onto the bed and settling his hands down on his blankets. "Not long now and you get six whole weeks off."

"Then can I stay up as late as I want?"

Harry laughed and leant down, kissing Al on the forehead. "We'll see."

"Teddy gets to stay up as late as he wants," Al grumbled, wriggling down under his blanket and reaching out to pull his stuffed Kneazle out from under his pillow and tucking it securely in the crook of his elbow. Harry was relieved to see the familiar reach for the stuffed toy; Al's grumbling about bedtime didn't hold much weight when he was clearly settling down.

"I think Teddy might be having you on," Harry smiled, knowing full well that Andromeda wouldn't let Teddy stay up late under any circumstances. "Night night."

"Night Dad," Al yawned, rolling onto his side. "Don't shut the door."

Harry nodded and reached out to gently ruffle Al's hair before getting up, tugging the covers up over Al's shoulder before leaving the room, ducking to avoid the dragon mobile that hung from the ceiling, slowly revolving as the multi-coloured dragons lazily flapped their wings. Pausing in the doorway to check Al had settled down, Harry watched him heave out a sigh and snuggle down into his pillow and then he dulled the light beside the bed with a flick of his wand. He was always glad when one or both of the boys came over; in all honesty the house felt too big when they weren't there. As he edged out of the room and half-closed the door, he found himself wishing fiercely that James would get over whatever he had going on with regards to Al so he could have them both back. The situation was complicated at the moment; since Ginny had had Alice, Al had been unwittingly clingier and Harry suspected James was feeling left out.

Well, a couple of weeks more and then it'd be the summer holidays, which meant more time to spend with both of them, Harry thought as he went down to the kitchen to set about clearing up for the night. Al and James both. And Teddy as well, Harry mentally added somewhat wearily. He did love his Godson, but the kid seemed to be channelling all of Remus's Marauder-spirit and most of Tonk's energy. How Andi coped with him on a day to day basis was beyond Harry, who was normally knackered after having him for a week. He was both looking forwards to and dreading Teddy starting Hogwarts; Andi had asked him to be Teddy's emergency contact as she couldn't be 'traipsing back and forth to Hogwarts every time he falls off his broom or gets hexed for being cheeky.' Harry had to agree, and despite his reservations he was looking forwards to having a more active role in Teddy's upbringing.

Yawning, he flicked his wand towards the sink and watched as the plates from dinner slid into the water with a splash. He just hoped that Teddy wouldn't make enemies with someone on the bloody train journey there and then spend the next fifteen years falling out with, cursing, hating, accidentally-almost-killing, rescuing and maybe obsessing over them.

"Pack it in," he told himself sternly as he banished the crumbs and spilt juice from the table, realising that he was thinking about Malfoy _again. _He didn't have time to be reminiscing about how Malfoy had acted when they were eleven; he had to clean up, get his house into some semblance of order and come up with an action plan for how he was going to occupy a bunch of over-excitable children for six wonderful weeks, whilst also working and staying sane.

This having kids business wasn't really a fair sport, he thought a little forlornly as he sank down onto a chair, waving his wand again to dry the dishes. You could plan all you wanted, and then when you thought it was all under control the rules got changed, usually with no notice whatsoever. He smiled despite himself; even with the politics of step-families, the looming insanity of the school holidays and Malfoy's unwelcome incursion into his life, things could be a lot worse.

So, the to-do list had now extended to sorting out the spare rooms ready for the arrival of various children throughout the holidays, restocking the pantry with enough food to keep them all happy, planning some excursions out for them all to try and avoid the classic whine of 'Dad, I'm _bored._'

Oh, and of course, first of all tracking down an ex-Death Eater who Harry couldn't seem to stop bloody thinking about. At least that could be done and dusted within a day, Harry thought as he heaved himself to his feet again. One glance through the file, and then he'd be happy. Simple.

* * *

><p>"I know you're standing there," Roberts said loudly, sounding unimpressed and not raising his eyes from his report. "And I don't care."<p>

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed himself off of Roberts's doorframe from the position he'd been lounging in for the past five minutes. He'd been stood there waiting for Roberts to look up and acknowledge him, and could sense Roberts getting more and more irritated at his presence as the seconds ticked by.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"No," Roberts replied immediately, flipping over his sheet of parchment. "You know my rule. No questions from Potter before ten in the morning, or before I've had at least two cups of coffee."

"You know that pick-up you made me do yesterday?"

Roberts groaned, running his hand over his face. "The _rule_, Potter. Merlin, you're annoying."

"Did you know who it was going to be? Before you sent me out?" Harry asked, sitting down on the chair that sat opposite Roberts's desk.

Roberts stared at him and blinked a couple of times and then, realising Harry wasn't going to go away, sighed heavily and tossed his report onto his desk, swinging around in his chair.

"No. All I heard was that there was a drunk wizard mouthing off about levitating and unicorns in front of some Muggles," he said. "I was busy chasing some thieving bugger all over London, and that's the only reason you got sent. Now go away."

"It was someone I knew," Harry said. "Someone from school."

Roberts paused, his hand inches away from picking up his file again, turning his eyes to Harry. "Really?"

Harry nodded. "Draco Malfoy."

"Ah, shit," Roberts sat back again, rubbing his face vigorously. "Oops."

"Oops?" Harry asked suspiciously. "What do you mean oops?"

"Oops, as in I don't want you making a big fuss over the fact you bumped into some ex-boyfriend of yours-"

"Oi!" Harry interrupted indignantly. "He's _not-"_

"Alright, don't get your nancy knickers in a twist," Roberts said half-heartedly. "I take it you didn't come in here just to tell me who your pick-up was, hmm?"

Harry shot him a glare. "No. I want his file."

Roberts raised an eyebrow, looking impressed. "Straight to the point, eh? I like that. No."

"Oh, come on," Harry pleaded as Roberts picked up his report again. "You owe me! I just want to know where he's been."

"You seem very interested in someone who you claim wasn't your boyfriend," Roberts said, an eyebrow raised.

"Sod off," Harry said tiredly. "And stop trying to distract me by saying stuff like that."

Roberts eyed him for a long moment. "I'm sorry Potter. If he were any regular pain that you wanted to know about I'd give you his file. But his tattoo automatically means level two clearance, even if he is as pathetic as a wet fish and about as dangerous as a Flobberworm…it's not worth my job getting it for you."

Harry nodded, tapping his fingers on the table. "Fair argument," he sighed, feeling put-out but knowing Roberts was right.

"Why do you want to know so badly, anyway?" Roberts asked, his casual tone not quite masking his curiously.

"No idea," Harry said wearily. "I've not seen him in ages. He disappeared after I gave his wand back and just reappeared out of nowhere."

"Oh _right_, he's the bleeder whose wand you used to kill You-Know-Who," Roberts said, clicking his fingers. "You know people reckon you two are magically bonded because of that?"

"That's just bollocks the _Prophet _made up," Harry said dismissively, standing up, ready to admit defeat and leave. "I'm not _bonded_ to him."

"No. Just _curious_, right?"

Harry flipped him two fingers and left the office to the sound of Roberts chuckling. Bastard.

Well. He would have to get his answers from somewhere else…and right now he reckoned his best bet was probably to go straight to the source. And the source was currently residing in Muggle Relations Cell number four, undoubtedly nursing a monster hang-over.

He wasn't _technically_ meant to talk to anyone that had been bought in; he was meant to Obliviate, leave, fill in his own paperwork and that was about it. But Malfoy was a special case, he supposed. And it was Roberts's fault anyway, for making Harry go and do the damn pick up in the first place.

He entered the Muggle Relations and Incidents Department (formerly known as the Obliviation Centre), greeting colleagues but not stopping to chat. He dodged Valerie, who was eyeing him like she wanted to discuss how fantastic his new shoes would be to wear on a date with her that Friday, then brushed off Adam Campbell who was hovering outside Harry's office – again.

"Harry! Where's my coffee?"

Harry paused as Ellis's voice drifted through an open office door and he backtracked, poking his head around the frame. "You get the bloody coffee, I'll be back in five."

"I got it yesterday! Don't be a lazy bastard, Potter!"

Harry ignored the shout and carried on along the corridor, heading for the door on the end that would lead him to the cells and processing room beyond the bustle of the offices.

"Morning Jen," he said brightly as he entered, greeting the young witch on the desk. "Just wanted to talk to the visitor in cell four. I bought him in yesterday, wanted to check he was okay."

Jen dropped her quill and tapped her wand on the filing cabinet, which shot out the bottom drawer with a crash. "Cell four you say? Oh! You mean the arsy blond in the tight T-shirt?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that'd be the one."

"He left," Jen said and the cabinet slammed shut.

"What? But it's not even ten," Harry said, bewildered.

Jen raised an eyebrow. "_I_ can manage to process more than one person in a morning," she said and Harry shifted from foot to foot, feeling sheepish.

"Oh. Yeah, I know, I just meant-"

"It's okay," she laughed and picked up a quill. "I'm sorry, I would have kept him here a bit longer if I'd known you wanted a word."

"It's alright," Harry said, feeling disconcertingly disappointed by the fact Malfoy had gone. "How was he this morning?"

"A nightmare," Jen said, wrinkling her nose. "Hungover and spitting mad. He looked a right state."

Harry grinned. "Good. Serves him right."

"I heard you had to fish him out of a fountain," Jen said, looking amused and then glanced up as the door from the apparition chamber clanked open. "Fill me in later," she winked and Harry hastily backed out of the room as an old Wizard wearing a bathrobe was dragged in by two annoyed looking agents, shouting about squadrons of Hippogriffs that were supposedly roaming the streets.

He shut the door and leant on it, breathing out deeply and frowning slightly at himself. Why exactly was he feeling completely gutted that Malfoy had gone before he could get there? It was _Malfoy, _and as intriguing as his predicament was, Harry shouldn't care. Right?

He huffed at himself and walked away from the door back towards his own office, determined to stop bloody chasing after Malfoy again and get on with his job. He was irritated now: annoyed that Malfoy had turned up, annoyed that he'd been a pain the day before, and especially annoyed that he was unthinkingly making the git his priority.

And now Roberts was being a knob about it, and Jen would be telling everyone that Harry had gone looking for Malfoy the morning after, as well as regaling the whole fountain-fiasco to whoever would listen. It was bloody hard work being Harry Potter some days, and after stern words from Hermione after his and Ginny's divorce, Harry had glumly acknowledged the fact that he didn't often make things easier for himself.

"Enough," Harry muttered as he slipped into his office, shutting the door behind him so Adam bloody Campbell couldn't follow him in. Malfoy wasn't his concern anymore, and that was the end of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Harry could hear the sounds of laughter, chattering and music before he even laid his hand on the rickety gate that would lead him down the side of Neville and Ginny's house, and into the back garden where everyone would undoubtedly be assembled. The house in Godric's Hollow was playing host to their first barbeque of the summer, and the weather was being simply perfect. Warm, with a slight breeze bringing fresh air in off of the nearby fields, as well as wafting the promising smell of barbequed foods in Harry's direction.

Stomach rumbling, he rounded the side of the house and was immediately accosted by Al who abandoned playing with James, Hugo and Teddy in favour of running up to Harry, jumping up at him. "Pick me up, pick me up!"

Harry grabbed Al's wrists and lifted him up slightly, just so his feet lifted off the floor. "Nope. You're too heavy."

"Am not," Al argued and Harry grinned, lifting him higher so Al laughed, bending his knees up and swinging in Harry's grip. The laughter stopped and turned into a wail as James ran over, jostling in for space and trying to hug Harry round the midriff.

"Hey, hey, calm down!" Harry said as Al squirmed and kicked. "Hang on, James-"

"Why does he get picked up all the time?" James asked a little sulkily, stepping back and pulling at the hem of his T-shirt which was streaked with dirt and grass-stains.

Harry dropped Al back to the floor. "You want picking up?" he asked with a grin.

James shook his head, kicking at the grass. "_No._ He's being a baby, is all."

Harry smiled at his elder son, ignoring Al for the moment who was protesting, trying to get Harry to pick him back up. "You know, I reckon I can still pick you up even if you are all grown up," he said.

A smile flickered across James' face. "Can't."

"Oh yeah?" Harry asked, stepping towards James who started to laugh, although he was trying not to.

"Dad, stop it!"

Harry didn't, and instead lunged forwards and grabbed James around the middle, heaving him up over his shoulder like he often did to Al. James shouted and wriggled but was laughing delightedly, grabbing fistfuls of Harry's T-shirt to steady himself. "Dad! I'm too big!"

"No you're not," Harry grinned, turning and walking towards the adults who were assembled at the barbeque, Al racing behind them.

"Hey Nev, found something for you to cook," Harry joked, making James squeal.

Neville grinned from his place behind the barbeque. "Oh, I don't know. He looks too skinny to eat."

"I suppose," Harry laughed and lowered James, letting him slither back to the floor. James looked up at him, beaming, before throwing his arms around Harry's middle and giving him a brief hug before dashing off again.

"My turn," Al insisted, pulling on Harry's shirt. "Me-"

"Al, what have I said about being picked up all the time?" A voice interrupted, and Harry turned to see Ginny looking at Al sternly, baby Alice perched on her hip and staring at Harry with wide brown eyes.

"Da-ad," Al whined, burying his face in Harry's hip.

"Mum says no," Harry said. "Go and play."

Al obediently sped off to find the other boys and Harry turned to Ginny, giving her a grin. "You're the boss."

She smiled back. "I can make up the rules but it doesn't change the fact he only follows them if you tell him."

Harry grinned sheepishly in reply, scratching the back of his head, not quite knowing what to say. Even if the kids lived with Ginny and Neville for most of the week, Harry's word was still law – especially with Al - a fact they both knew well.

She shook her head at him, amused, and turned to Neville who immediately bent over, smiling at Alice who reached out for her Dad, gurgling happily.

"Bleeding kids everywhere," a voice said behind Harry. "I'm going to step on one at some point."

Harry turned to see Ron grinning at him, his youngest on his hip and staring at Harry through her curly hair. Ron hitched her up, looking exasperated. "This is why women have _hips,_" he complained.

"Mum. Want Mum," Rose said suddenly, tugging at Ron's shirt. He looked down at her in surprise and then back at Harry. "You heard that, right? Good."

Harry watched in amusement as Ron dodged past George and Angelina and round to where Hermione was chatting with Andi, Luna and Parvati, tapping her on the arm and promptly passing Rose over. Hermione looked torn between laughter and exasperation but took Rose without argument, leaving Ron free to meander back towards Harry.

"Smooth," Harry snorted, spotting a box of beer on the picnic bench and grabbing two out, holding them both out to Ron.

"Nice one," Ron said gratefully, pulling his wand out and tapping it to the bottles, the lids spinning off with soft clicks. "You alright anyway, mate? Heard your pair are being the pains this week."

Harry laughed, flopping down onto the picnic bench, taking a swig of his beer. "Yeah, nothing too bad though. Al's started the clingy thing up again and James is just being a bit sulky."

"Gets that from you," Ron said with a nod, laughing as Harry elbowed him sharply.

"I think he's just having trouble with the latest addition," Harry said, nodding towards Ginny and baby Alice. "He was a bit funny when Al was born, and now it's all different-"

"Don't know how you cope, mate," Ron said, also looking towards the trio at the barbeque. "I mean, Neville's great, but I don't know if I could take one of my mates being step-dad to my kids and living with my ex-wife."

"That's because you're an irrationally jealous wanker," Harry said and Ron laughed, raising his bottle in acknowledgment. "You know it was weird to start with, but now this works out best for everyone. Gin's happy, the kids are happy, and I know Neville respects how it all is."

"He knows you're boss," Ron grinned and Harry laughed softly.

"No, we both know Ginny's boss," he said. "They're happy, I'm happy."

"You found yourself anyone to be happy with yet?" Ron asked casually, crossing one ankle over the other and leaning back, tilting his face up to the sun.

Harry shook his head. "Between work, the kids, you lot and being the Chosen One, dating opportunities are pretty thin on the ground."

Ron laughed. "Sounds about right. Work still running you in circles?"

Harry moved his beer bottle away from his mouth. "Christ, nearly forgot! Guess who I saw the other day?"

Ron pulled a face. "I don't know and I'm not guessing."

"You're no fun," Harry frowned, squinting in the sun as he looked across the garden to watch Seamus who had meandered over towards Parvati, saying something she was obviously trying – and failing – to be unamused by. "You used to like playing the guessing-who-Harry-has-obliviated game."

"Yeah but today I'm feeling lazy," Ron said, eyes on the kids that were playing in the far corner of the garden. "And I'm trying to keep an eye on the latest set of Marauders over there."

Harry looked in the same direction and smiled; Hugo, Al, Teddy, James and Freddie Weasley were undoubtedly causing mischief as far away from the adults as they could get, under Teddy's sterling leadership of course. His bright blue hair stood out shockingly against the greenery behind, as did the red-heads of James and Freddie.

"They're going to be a nightmare at Hogwarts," Harry said wistfully, remembering his old school well even after all this time. There wasn't a day that went by that he almost wished he were back in school, although remembering the ever-present threat of death did somewhat quell the yearning to be fourteen again.

"Ha, I know," Ron chortled. "Good luck with you keeping tabs on your pair _and_ Teddy."

Harry pulled a face at him. "A little more sympathy would be nice, just because your kids take after Hermione-"

"Hmm," Ron agreed. "But if you look at it, it's really your fault for knocking up my sister though. Twice. The moment she left Hogwarts too, as Mum _still_ mentions. Your timing is legendary, mate."

Harry winced. "Low blow," he said ruefully, and Ron shot him a grin.

"Easy pickings."

They lapsed into comfy silence for a moment, feeling lazy and content in the sun, listening to the chatter of their friends and the shouts of the children. Harry cracked an eye open to see the five boys tearing across the garden, Al shrieking and then hiding behind Ginny as Teddy nearly grabbed him.

"Go on then," Ron said after a moment, sounding resigned. "Who did you obliviate?"

"Oh, you want to know now?"

"I'll bloody well change my mind if the next sentence isn't a name."

"Draco Malfoy."

Ron gagged on his mouthful of beer and turned to look at Harry, eyes wide. "No _way!_"

"Yep," Harry nodded, pleased that Ron was staring at him in shock, and a little smug that Ron had anticipated someone boring. "Well, I didn't obliviate him. He turned up pissed not far from the Ministry. I had to go fetch him, he was swimming around in a fountain and spouting off about levitating and stuff."

"A fountain?" Ron asked, astounded. "Draco Malfoy? Really?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, watching Ginny as Al swung around her legs. "He was a right mess."

"No way," Ron repeated, eyes wide and fixed on Harry. "_Really?_"

"Yes!" Harry insisted, laughing at the expression on Ron's face. "Definitely him alright, I mean, it's not like he's easily confused with anyone else."

Ron looked at him in wonder. "Still blond?"

Harry nodded. "Yep. Still blond, still pointy, still a massive pain in the arse."

"Was he a dick then?"

Harry sighed and tipped his head back, stretching the muscles in his neck. "Not really," he admitted, pulling his head back up. His shoulder twinged, probably from picking up James earlier. At the rate that kid was growing, he soon wouldn't be able to do it at all.

"He came back no fuss at all really, gave up his wand without a tantrum and everything. He was just really, really drunk."

"Drunk? But that's so-" Ron winkled his nose, "-not Malfoy like."

Harry laughed. "I know. He said he'd been drinking Jack Daniels too."

A frown overtook Ron's freckled features. "Jack Daniels? But that's a Muggle drink, right? That stuff that Dean drinks?"

Nodding, Harry took a mouthful of his beer. "Yeah, which got me thinking, where the bloody hell has Malfoy been hanging out to get his hands on Jack Daniels?"

"Did you ask him?"

"Tried," Harry said. "But he was too plastered to get any sense out of, and when I went back in the morning he'd gone. I went to find out about it this morning, see if I could find out where he's got to, but I can't have his file because of the Dark Mark clearance."

Ron nodded slowly. "Probably for the best. You know Malfoy comes with nothing but trouble."

"You've not heard anything about him have you?" Harry asked.

"Nope. Well, I know he went to France after you gave his wand back and came back about a year ago."

"He did? How come no-one told me?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Ron gave him a pointed look. "Because of _this_," he said emphatically. "One bloody mention of the git and you're like a goblin following a trail of gold."

"I am not!" Harry said indignantly and Ron laughed. "I've grown up a bit since sixth year, thanks."

Ron continued to chortle into his bottle of beer. "Don't remind me. Come on, you know I'm right."

"Hmm," Harry said, unwilling to admit to Ron or himself just how right or wrong his friend might be.

"Might be interesting to know where he's been though," Ron conceded, and then looked up as people started moving towards the barbeque, presumably because food was - finally - ready.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Harry said.

"So how did react to you?" Ron asked. "What was he like?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Flipping between being really over-friendly and annoyed at me…and being incredibly wasted," he eventually said and Ron started to laugh again, Harry joining in a little helplessly. "You've no idea, I don't think even _I've_ ever been that trollied - I mean, when I got there he told me his name was Jack Daniels_. _Seemed pretty convinced of it."

"You're kidding, right?" Ron asked through his laughter.

"Nope," Harry said, looking down and peeling at the label of his bottle. "And I had to actually go _into_ the bloody fountain and drag him out, and then he threw up all over the apparation chamber. Marge Collins nearly had my balls."

"Christ, sounds like he's a state," Ron said, still laughing. "Trust you to be the one to have to fetch him."

"I know," Harry said. "Sods bloody law or what."

"Why don't you ask Kingsley if he knows anything?" Ron said. "He'd tell you even if the Aurors can't. And if it's just to satisfy your morbid curiosity, I'm sure he'd tell you where Malfoy's been."

Harry scratched his chin. "Now that's not a half bad idea," he said thoughtfully, already mentally checking his workload for tomorrow and making space for a trip up to Kingsley's office.

"That is if you really _have_ to know," Ron said slyly and Harry punched him on the shoulder.

"You're interested as well," he said indignantly.

"Yeah I am, but I won't be interested in the same way _you_ might be interested," Ron said and fended off another punch, laughing.

"Oh god, that's just- you're- you know, I don't know why I hang out with you sometimes," Harry said grumpily, feeling his cheeks going red at Ron's suggestive comments. He didn't think of Malfoy like that, why did everyone keep saying stuff along those lines to him? First Marge with her bloody _thighs_ comment, and Roberts and his sarcasm, and now Ron?

"I'm awesome, is why," Ron yawned, standing up and jerking his head over towards the barbeque. "Come on, let's get food before the urchins eat it all."

"You can be awesome again when you stop making jokes like that," Harry said, standing up alongside Ron and catching his shoulder before Ron made a beeline for the food. "Just don't tell everyone, yeah?" he asked and continued as Ron raised his eyebrows questioningly. "It's just that…yeah, I'm curious but it's not a big deal, I don't want everyone thinking it is and putting in their knut's worth. God knows what Ginny and Hermione would say."

"Fair enough," Ron said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "Now enough of the Ferret. I want to eat."

"Deal," Harry said and raised his beer bottle. Ron rolled his eyes and then clinked his bottle against Harry's.

"I'm still allowed to make inappropriate comments though, yeah?"

"Wouldn't be you if you didn't."

* * *

><p>Harry hovered in the doorway, half in and half out of Kingsley's office. Kingsley was sat at his desk, reading through what looked like a very long and tedious report. Harry figured that Kingsley would either be simply too busy to talk, or that he might welcome a distraction.<p>

He reached out and knocked on the door and Kingsley immediately looked up, his face breaking into a smile. "Harry, good to see you," he said, putting the report down. "I've heard you're doing well with the Obliviators," he winced. "Sorry- Muggle Liaison Officers."

Harry laughed and stepped forwards. "It's OK. I like _Obliviator_ better if I'm honest, at least people actually know what I do when I say that."

"Hmm, fair point. Political correctness once again overshadows common sense," Kingsley sighed. "I'm trying to find time to see about putting the names and departments back…Sorry, Harry, did you want something or just saying hello?"

"Just a quick chat about something, it can wait if you're busy," Harry said.

"You can have five minutes now before I meet with Magical Sports," Kingsley said, and Harry nodded, turning to shut the door and walking over to the desk, sinking into one of the chairs that sat opposite it.

"Roberts sent me on a pick up the day before yesterday," Harry said slowly and Kingsley raised his eyebrows. "It's okay, it was just a quick one, they were all busy on the Hightops case. I didn't mind."

Kingsley's expression relaxed. "So then, what's the problem?"

Harry paused. "It was Draco Malfoy."

"Ah," Kingsley eyed Harry carefully, drumming his fingers on the desk. "Was that a problem?"

"Erm, no. Not really," Harry said. "I was just…well, I've not heard from him in so long and wondered where he'd been."

Kingsley pulled his hands off of his desk and leant back in his chair, eyes still on Harry. "Any ulterior motives?"

Harry looked at him, surprised. "No! Nothing at all, I'm just curious," he said.

"So this is just you being nosey because he's an old school friend?" Kingsley asked slowly and Harry nodded, frowning.

"Yeah, what else would it be?"

"Nothing," Kingsley said, not completely assuaging Harry's suspicion. "I hate to be a spoil-sport, Potter, but there's really not that much to know about Malfoy junior. He moved to France with his Mother straight after his Father passed, spent around six years there and then came back when _she_ died a year ago. From what I know he lives in Muggle London, keeps himself to himself and out of trouble."

Harry frowned. "That's it?"

"Well what were you expecting?" Kingsley asked, sounding amused.

"I don't know," Harry said, waving his hand vaguely. "Just- I don't know. More than that."

"Sorry to disappoint," Kingsley said, checking his watch. "Sorry Harry, got to press on."

Harry stood up, feeling uncertain and frowning at Kingsley. "Are you sure there's nothing else?"

"Positive," Kingsley said, not looking at him.

"But-"

"Sorry son, this meeting can't wait," Kingsley waved his wand and a sheaf of papers flew over from atop a cabinet into his hand. He paused and then looked up at Harry seriously. "Put young Malfoy out of your mind, my friend. He's not a worry of yours any more, hmm?"

"S'pose not," Harry conceded grudgingly.

"Alright then. Be sure to pop in if you need anything," Kingsley said, standing up and walking around to clap Harry on the shoulder, his normal relaxed countenance returning in an instant.

"Will do. Thanks, Kingsley. I mean, Minister."

Kingsley chortled and waved Harry off, who left the office with a frown on his face. He had the distinct feeling Kingsley hadn't been telling him something…but was he just being paranoid? Kingsley was a busy man, he was probably thinking about something important, not bloody Draco Malfoy.

_Which is what you should be doing,_ Harry's brain said and he scowled. Ron was bloody right. Anything to do with Malfoy that hinted at suspicion and Harry was hooked.

Ron would be insufferable when Harry admitted he was right, the git.

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy leant forwards, pressing his temple onto the cool glass of the window, shutting his eyes against the brightness of the early morning sun that shone warm through the pane. The day was going to be a hot one, he could tell, the promise of high temperatures evident even at this early hour.<p>

He scratched at his eyebrow with his thumb, a cigarette nestled between his first and second fingers, sending lazy spirals of smoke up into the rafters above his head.

"You can pack that in right now."

He shut his eyes briefly at the sound of the voice, but didn't turn to face its owner who had evidently just entered the attic room of the house he was currently waiting in.

"It's just a cigarette," he said, eyes still staring out of the window. The street below was empty and dark; the tall buildings either side keeping it mostly in shadow.

There was a swish, the tingle of magic rushed over his hand and then his cigarette was gone, Vanished to nowhere. He swore and slumped back into the window seat, resigned.

"What do you want?"

"You're in trouble."

Draco steeled himself, not wanting to appear at all intimidated. "If this is about the other night, we've been over this. I had no bloody idea that there'd be anyone from the Ministry about-"

"You should be being more careful," the voice said, turning angry and somewhat threatening in an instant. "You're a liability."

Draco wished he had his cigarette back; then he could feign disinterest instead of giving away his nervousness by twisting his fingers together in his lap. "Sorry."

"You best be," the voice said gruffly, back to its usual tone in a snap, all malevolence gone. "Right, I've paid your rent for the next quarter and put your commission aside. You've got another job today, hanging in on a lunchtime meeting. See if you can catch some eyes."

Draco turned to look out of the window again. "Fine."

There was a pause. "The evening's yours tonight."

Draco nodded, feeling grateful, and then immediately resentful that he felt grateful. "Thanks," he said quietly.

"Stay in," the voice said and Draco nodded again. Like he'd be going out anytime soon anyway, after what had happened last time.

Potter. Fucking _Potter_.

Draco could only hope the git wouldn't come digging around after him; the last thing he needed now was a heroic Gryffindor intervention into his life. He'd managed to gloss over the drunk in public incident without revealing the identity of his arrestor, but it wouldn't stay that way for long if Potter chose to come nosing.

Fuck. He'd only just managed to stop thinking about Potter as it was. He was sick to death of thinking about Potter; he'd been doing it since he was eleven. The initial anger he'd felt at potter's refusal to be his friend had turned to jealousy and obsession, and had – now he could just about admit - rapidly gotten out of hand. He had been fifteen when, lesson after lesson, he'd caught himself helplessly staring at Potter's stupid hands, which weren't even that nice. They were ordinary and boring and ink-splattered and Draco hadn't been able to _stop looking. _Realising that the bitterness and jealousy in his chest had extended beyond simple rivalry had been too much to bear and had in turn made Draco even angrier at both Potter and himself.

Time had dulled the resentment and _want_ into nothing more than an ache over what could never be. Distance had made it easier too; he would now smile in regret as he thought about all the times he could have just made it better by saying _sorry_.

But then again, that would have involved saying sorry to Potter, Draco thought with a twist to his mouth. He'd be damned if he were going to say it before Potter did and besides, saying sorry would probably have achieved fuck all anyway. The probability of Draco's fantasy of Potter accepting the apology, saying he'd been waiting for Draco forever before taking Draco in his arms and kissing the breath out of him in reply was probably a trillion to one. Still, it didn't stop Draco occasionally thinking_ what if_.

He tended to do that about a lot of things in the past, not just Potter. Thinking what if he'd ran away when he was ten. What if he'd admitted to his mother that he hated having Aunt Bella in the house. What if he'd asked Dumbledore for help earlier. What if he'd not tried to hex Potter in that bathroom. What if he'd told Potter why he'd been crying. What if he'd not been such a supercilious brat when he'd started school.

But then again, if things had been different back then everything would be different now. And whilst he hated most things in his life, there was one thing in it that he just couldn't bring himself to wish away or regret.

Draco heaved a sigh as he heard the door close behind him, leaving him alone again. He wanted to go home, and spend the day where he should be, with the only person on the planet who didn't make him want to jump out of whichever window presented itself at the time. Or, the only person who didn't personally want to throw him out of said window, he mused.

Pressing his temple against the glass again, he shut his eyes, basking in the warmth of the sun and trying not to think about anything, including Potter. Maybe one day, he'd wake up and everything would stop being complicated.

Maybe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"You realise this is exactly one week and four days since you arrested that bloke and you must have mentioned him, oooh, I don't know. Fifty thousand million times."

Harry gave Ellis a withering look, but Ellis wasn't bothered; he just stuck his tongue out in reply, grinning all the while. _Yeah, dead mature_, thought Harry grumpily. He really needed some new friends; it was an unfortunate character flaw of his that somehow led him to people of Ellis's nature: pulling no punches, giving him no special treatment and generally being dicks. He dreaded the day that Ron, Ellis and Roberts were all in the same place at the same time; he would undoubtedly be bullied to within an inch of his sanity. Oh well, he supposed it was better than hero-worship and misplaced idolatry, at a push.

"I have _not_-"

"Yeah you have," Ellis said, tossing the file he'd been looking at onto his desk. "I'm getting suspicious about your interest in this guy."

"Oh _you're_ getting suspicious?" Harry asked, stretching his feet out and propping them up on Ellis's desk. "How do you think I feel? Every time I ask about the git people either run off or say they don't know, or brush me off-"

"And everyone else is suspicious that you keep asking," Ellis interrupted. "Are you sure you never fucked this guy?"

Harry gave Ellis his best I-am-not-amused glare, but Ellis just laughed. "Have you asked your mates about it?"

"No," Harry admitted. "They'd call me insane."

"If I call you insane, will that stop you talking to me about it?" Ellis asked hopefully.

"No."

"That's so unfair-"

The potential bickering match – which Harry would undoubtedly win – was cut short as Ellis's door crashed open and Adam Campbell walked in, his nose buried in a file.

"Ellis, you've got to do a pick up from Park Rise police station, boss says you can take anyone but Potter for potential Obliviating-"

Adam stopped dead as he looked up and saw Harry lounging in the chair opposite Ellis, looking amused. His face flushed red and he stepped back again, banging his back on the edge of the open door. His mouth opened and closed a few times but no words came out, and Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes or laugh at him. Adam really needed to get over the fact he very occasionally worked with Harry Potter; some days his sycophancy was a downright pain.

"Harry! I didn't see you! I didn't-" he swallowed, trying to regroup, eyes darting frantically between the two men in the room. "Ellis - can I have a word?"

"Why can't I go? What's the pick up?" Harry asked before Ellis could get a word in, pulling his feet off of the desk and leaning forwards towards Adam.

"Erm-" Adam flailed for a moment; his desire to do what he was told clashing horribly with his hero-worshiping tendencies. "Erm-"

He looked desperately to Ellis who took pity on him and held his hand out for the file. Adam hastily passed it over, quickly stepping backwards towards the door again. "Wizard arrested by Muggle Officers, held in Park Rise Station, has prior warnings for Statute of Security breaches, nothing major, just slips when he's talking and he's been drinking-"

"Yes, yes," Ellis sighed. "I'll get him."

"Thank you," Adam turned to leave, tripping over his feet and nearly head-butting the edge of the door in the process. Flustered, he sidestepped it, his blush deepening even further. "I'll talk to you later. Bye Harry, see you later, Harry!"

Harry snorted with laughter as the door shut, and then turned to face Ellis, but his sarcastic comment about Adam died on his lips as he saw Ellis staring down at the file, eyebrows raised.

"What?" Harry asked immediately, his intrigue sparked. "Why can't I go? Who is it?"

"No-one," Ellis said, standing up and still looking down at the request form which was clipped into the front of the file. "I better go- response time is critical and all, you know what Kingsley says-"

"Ellis!"

Ellis pulled a face, sighed, and then tossed the file over to Harry who caught it in one hand and opened it immediately. His eyes widened as he glanced down the page and he stood up hastily, eyes still glued to the file.

"No fucking way! I'm coming with you."

"No you're not," Ellis tried to protest, hastily stepping into the doorway to block Harry's exit. "Boss said no."

"Oh come on, I'm here now and I know," Harry said determinedly. "If you don't let me go I'll be forced to ask you about it every day for the next god knows how long, until you either break down and cry, or you murder me, then you'll be sent to Azkaban, and then I'll come back as a ghost and I'll sit outside your cell still asking questions-"

"Fine," Ellis said, holding his hands up in protest. "Anything to shut you the fuck up."

"Great," Harry said brightly. "Let's go."

Ellis sighed, stepping sideways a little so the door was partially unblocked. "This is _not_ a good idea."

"It's a great idea," Harry replied promptly, holding the file to his chest and out of Ellis's reach as he darted past him on the way to the door. "Chop chop then. Response time is critical after all."

Ellis rubbed his eyes, bordering on frustrated. "Fine, but if you cause a fuss-"

Harry was already halfway down the corridor, shouting back over his shoulder.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

><p>"So you two are…"<p>

Harry had to take pity on the Muggle police officer sat behind the desk, identified as _Officer D Hand_ by his wonky name badge; he was clearly wearing all the signs of 'eighteen hour shift.' He was staring at Ellis with shadow ringed eyes, looking like he couldn't care less who Harry and Ellis actually were, especially if they were there to make his job more difficult.

"Running the interventions, we'll be taking this Malfoy character off of your hands."

Officer Hand looked at them suspiciously. "How come whenever he gets arrested he gets '_taken off our hands?_'" he asked, making quotes in the air with his fingers. "Why don't you just leave him here?"

"He's got dual citizenship and a father with friends in high places, you know how complicated it is," Ellis said, raising his hand to scratch his head in a gesture that Harry recognised well – the classic _confundus_ manoeuvre. "Last thing you want is Interpol nosing in on why you keep arresting this tosser."

Biting back a grin, Harry leant on the counter, letting Ellis work his magic. Literally. He was itching with impatience; Ellis had firmly told him to stay back, say nothing and to bloody well behave if he wanted any answers about Draco fucking Malfoy, and it was wearing thin already.

He hated Muggle police stations, all shiny linoleum and artificial lights that gave you a headache if you were there too long. At least this one didn't smell too bad; the odour of disinfectant and crap coffee that normally permeated these buildings was thankfully absent.

He had just started drumming his fingers on the counter and was midway through counting all the empty disposable coffee cups around Officer Hand's desk, when there was a shout from down an adjacent corridor. Hand groaned and leant forwards, running his fingers through his hair and making it stick up on end.

"Just take him," he said, shaking his head and picking up a sheet of paper, reaching up to put it up on the counter for Ellis to take. "I swear to god, he gets arrested on _every_ shift I get."

Harry perked up at once and Ellis shot him a warning glance. "Alright, where is he? I'll pop in and have a quick word before we move him. I'll leave Potter here, you can fill him in."

Officer Hand's face fell. "What? Why?"

Ellis made a show of pulling a disgusted face, wrinkling his nose. "Because he's _new_, and I'm stuck with him."

Officer Hand sighed but nodded, rubbing his face vigorously. "Yes, alright," he sighed, pulling his hands away from his face and turning to his computer screen, looking thoroughly miserable.

"Thanks," Ellis made to step away from the counter but Harry caught his elbow, sending him a meaningful glance.

"You're not going in," Ellis muttered before Harry could say anything or protest, stepping up to him and speaking in an undertone so no-one else could hear. "I'm not having him flip his lid in a Muggle police station because _you've_ turned up. I'll ask, and report back."

Harry nodded, grudgingly conceding the point. "Alright."

Ellis walked off without another word and Harry turned his attention to Officer Hand who was watching him balefully. "Come round, I hate talking over the counter."

"So, you've arrested this guy more than once?" Harry asked, walking along the counter to the lift-up section, slipping through it and placing it back carefully before walking over to the computer.

"Yeah," Hand sighed, turning the computer screen to face Harry and shifting his chair sideways a little. "About twelve times in the past year…"

Harry leant in, eyes glued to the screen which showed him what appeared to be a live feed of the interior of a questioning cell somewhere in the building; Ellis was just entering but Harry's eyes were fixed to the blond figure that was sat behind the desk, hands in cuffs and looking rather worse for wear.

His jaw dropped.

"_Christ_, what happened to him?" Harry asked, shocked. If Draco had been in a bad way the last time Harry had seen him, it was nothing on his appearance today. One, if not two black eyes were easily visible even over the video link from the camera. His lower lip was swollen and bloodied and his jacket was ripped.

"Surprised?" Hand asked, frowning at the screen. It was a good clear image - Draco was unmistakable – and flickered every so often with the lag experienced by live video.

"Well, yeah," Harry admitted. "Who did that to him?"

"We don't know," Hand said, looking at Harry curiously. "That's typical for someone like him though, he's often a bit of a mess when we fetch him. I reckon it's because he's so skinny and _blond_."

"Hang on, what do you mean, a person like him?" Harry asked, confused and trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

Hand clicked the screen with the video feed away and bought up a record, headed with a number and Draco's name.

"A rentboy."

Harry's eyes widened even further as he stared at the screen, stunned out of coherency and unable to form words. A fucking _rentboy_? His eyes frantically scanned the new screen in front of him and he saw the evidence in front of him - a long list of public order offences and – _fucking hell_ – vice records.

"Never come across a rentboy before?" asked Hand, seemingly unperturbed by Harry's shock. "The ones around here are normally more discreet than the regular hookers – sorry, _sex workers_ - but man, this guy's a pain in the arse."

"What- er, since when?" Harry croaked, clearing his throat. "_Christ._"

"His first arrest was a vice arrest," Hand continued. "Caught him near St Luke's, round by the market."

_St Luke's. Islington. Not too far from Diagon Alley_…Harry managed to think through his daze. Fuck.

He stared at the screen, eyes on the picture of Malfoy that accompanied the list of all his indiscretions. He felt – shit, he didn't know how he felt. He racked his brains and tried think of something to say, rather than standing there and gaping like an idiot.

"Not high society work, then?" he asked and Hand shrugged.

"Sometimes. He's been escorted from a fair few high rise hotels. We had to fish him out of Park Lane once - complete nightmare - but we've found him on corners and all sorts."

"Bloody hell."

Officer Hand flicked the video back up and started filling Harry in on more details of when and where Draco had been picked up, but Harry wasn't listening. He was watching Draco and Ellis in the questioning room, wishing there was sound so he could hear what they were talking about.

A rentboy. Selling himself on street corners. Draco Malfoy. Harry's brain hurt, trying to process this information. He knew something had been up, when no-one would tell him about Draco – but he didn't anticipate _this_.

He found he was genuinely distressed; pity, worry and anger for his old rival welling up at a disconcerting speed. Was he just working out in Muggle areas, or was he filling the beds of the Wizarding elite, too?

So many questions.

Had a punter beat Draco up? Is that why he was in the state he was? Harry's thoughts abruptly stopped; his mind now blank except for one burning question that followed on from all the others.

"Is he gay?"

"Yep," Hand sighed, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. "Really gay as opposed to gay-for-pay. That's what he says anyway. Anything else you want to know?"

"No…no I think that's it…actually, I've got to go," Harry said unsteadily, stepping back and trying to tear his eyes away from the computer screen. Ellis was meandering back and forth across the room and Draco was sat firmly in his seat with his arms held tightly up to his chest.

"What?" Hand asked, frowning. "Don't you have to see him?"

"No, no, I just needed filling in today. Thanks for the help."

"Are you sure? Don't you need to wait for the other guy?"

Officer Hand was looking confused but Harry didn't care. He was seized with the mad desire to _get the fuck out of there_ before Ellis let something slip to Malfoy, not wanting Malfoy to realise that Harry was there, and that he _knew_…

"No, no. He'll be fine. Thanks."

He lifted the countertop and stepped through, letting it fall back with a bang. He headed straight for the door, ignoring the odd looks the other officers gave him, just desperately needing some fresh air. He didn't even care about the fact Ellis would have to cover for his abrupt departure, he just wanted _out_.

Walking away from the station as quickly as possible, he stopped only when he was out of sight of the building, stopping and leaning against a wall, breathing out deeply. The sun was warm on his face but he barely noticed; he pressed his palms against the rough red brick behind him, trying to get his hands to stop trembling. He felt borderline horrified at what he had just discovered. Why the _fuck_ did he have to keep asking about Malfoy? Now look what had fucking happened.

_Fuck_. He should have thought about Draco more after that fucking war, wondered what would have happened to him. He'd given his bloody wand back and not bothered to find out where Draco would go. He'd asked of course, but he should have persisted when Draco had shrugged and muttered "_nowhere,_" avoiding Harry's gaze and looking lost.

Harry pressed his fingers harder into the brick, still breathing in and out deeply and trying to calm down. God, he should have – he didn't know, maybe have kept an eye on him? Of course Malfoy wouldn't find regular work in the Wizarding world because of his damn tattoo…and obviously his luck in the Muggle world had run out too.

He ran his hands through his hair, feeling hot and uncomfortable. He needed to talk to someone, and now. And he knew exactly who that someone would be.

* * *

><p>"Ron! <em>Ron!<em>"

Ron Weasley closed the door on the cage of Pygmy Puffs and looked up with a frown as he heard the shout of his name. Through the people that were milling around in the shop he saw Harry darting towards him, looking frantic.

"Whoa, calm down," he said, alarmed, raising his hands in the air as Harry skidded to a halt next to him, nearly knocking over a display of Skiving Snackboxes in the process. "What's wrong? Why aren't you at work?"

"Need to talk to you," Harry gasped, rubbing his side where he had a burning stitch. He'd literally legged it from the Ministry, calling in his favours with everyone he knew to skive the afternoon, and headed straight down to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Now?" Ron asked, and sighed as Harry nodded frantically. "Alright, come on."

He quickly checked the cage of Pygmy Puffs one last time and then turned away, beckoning for Harry to follow. They wound their way through the shop, Ron looking left and right down aisles and into alcoves as they went.

"George!" he shouted, finally spotting his brother talking to group of witches beside the display of love potions at the back. "Having a crisis, taking a break!"

"No you are not," George shouted back and then paused, looking suspicious. "What crisis?"

Harry stepped up to Ron and waved helpfully and a little sheepishly at George, who immediately rolled his eyes in Harry's direction. "Should have guessed. Having another falling-out-of-the-closet drama?"

The girls next to him looked scandalised but Harry just chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Not today. I think you can only do that once, anyway."

"Touché," George conceded. "Alright little brother, take your crisis out back. Don't touch the purple cauldron!" he shouted after them as Ron pulled a face at him and shoved Harry in the direction of the storeroom-slash-office-slash-tearoom out back.

"Thank you," Harry said fervently as Ron kicked the door shut behind them, before pushing him into an empty chair and pointing his wand at the kettle which sat on the worktop at the back. "I mean it-"

"Just spill," Ron said, walking across the room and peering suspiciously into the aforementioned cauldron which was full of some thick, bubbling, purple liquid. "You look like you're about to explode."

"I found Malfoy in a Muggle police station."

Ron paused and turned to look at him. "Come again?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I found Malfoy."

Ron's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he switched to an incredulous look, obviously despairing that Harry hadn't listened and left Malfoy well alone. "You're kidding right? I told you not to run around after him."

"I didn't," Harry protested. "We had to go pick him up again, all perfectly legit."

"Hmm," Ron said, clearly unimpressed.

"I swear," Harry insisted. "I was in Ellis's office and that little shit Adam Campbell came in and said Ellis had to go fetch him but wasn't allowed to take me, so of course…"

"You then knew something was up and had to go," Ron finished, nodding. "Fair enough."

"That's not all," Harry said as Ron turned towards the kettle, pulling out two mugs from the battered cupboard with the '_no exploding stuff in the tea cupboard please_' notice stuck to the door.

"Yeah?" Ron asked, his back to Harry as he busied himself with making tea.

Harry took a deep breath. "He's a whore."

There was a crash and Ron swore, looking down at his feet in dismay at the broken mug that he'd knocked off as he span round to look at Harry. He glanced up from the wreckage, looking thoroughly distressed. _"What? _He's a what?_"_

"A whore. Rentboy. Escort. I don't know, whatever the politically correct term is," Harry said listlessly, pulling out his wand and repairing the broken mug, levitating it so Ron could grab it from midair, clutching it in both hands.

"A gay rentboy?" Ron asked.

"Yep."

"_Really?_"

"Yep."

"Oh god, oh – ew, _ew." _Ron wailed, putting the mug on the side so he could plant both palms over his eyes, as if trying to fend away any mental images that may have strayed into his path. "That is _disgusting_."

Harry managed an amused but tired smile, although he didn't have it in him to feign indignation and make Ron apologise. "Excuse you?"

Ron pulled his hands away from his eyes, looking startled. "Oh! No, I didn't mean the gay thing. Jesus, I've put up with you being a nancy for the past four years-" Harry started to laugh and Ron chuckled, continuing. "It's the _rentboy _thing – god, imagine taking it up the arse for money-"

"Ron!"

"Sorry, sorry," Ron said, finally getting around to pouring the tea and passing one over to Harry. "That's just-" he gave a low whistle. "That's not good."

"I know it's not good, hence the crisis," Harry said, taking a sip of his tea. "It's insane- I mean, it can't be something he's doing by choice."

Ron looked confused. "Is it ever?"

Harry shrugged. "Well some people do it for a career, don't they? Not because they have to, but because they like it and can make a killing. Some people earn thousands doing that, if you get in with the high society lot."

Ron clicked his fingers. "Like that telly thingy Hermione watches! Secret shagging of a callgirl, or whatever it is."

Harry chuckled wearily, putting his mug down. "Yeah, something like that."

"So that's not what Malfoy's doing then?" Ron ventured, his expression slightly cautious as if he didn't really want to hear an answer.

"I highly doubt it," Harry said. "The police officer today said they keep finding him all over the shop, sometimes on corners, they said he'd been in Park Lane Hotel before-"

"They found him on a street corner?" Ron asked, now looking thoroughly distressed and a little green in the face. "That's like- like, _ew_."

"Thank you for your articulate views on the matter," Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand, trying to push away the ache in his temples that was brewing.

"Sod off," Ron said distractedly. "But-" he tried, gesturing aimlessly with his free hand. "How are you not freaking out about this? This is huge news. For him to turn up out of the blue- and like _this_."

"I already did my freaking out and now I'm wondering what the fuck I'm going to do," Harry said and Ron paused, looking at him suspiciously.

"What _you're_ going to do?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "And there's no use talking me out of it because I've already decided I can't just leave it alone. You guys made it worse, not telling me about him anyway. Bloody _Kingsley_- no wonder he was so cagey about telling me anything. I bet he bloody _knew_-"

"Mate, calm down," Ron said, looking alarmed. "You're going to burst something. Chill."

Harry paused and then nodded and breathed out deeply, picking up his tea again. Ron was right; he needed to calm down and try and think about this rationally- however he knew rational thinking was not something that went hand in hand with dealing with Draco Malfoy.

"It just seems such a waste," He finally said. "He seemed to be...I don't know, he was getting better. Nicer. Not as horrible. During the war when he didn't sell us out, and Luna said that he tried to look after them a bit when they were in Malfoy Manor…I guess I hoped he'd end up alright, really."

"Yeah," Ron said. "After a war like that you kind of hope that people learn from it a bit."

"I should have made sure he was okay, afterwards," Harry said dispiritedly. "I saw him for like ten minutes and he didn't look right, but I didn't think much of it-"

Ron frowned. "He's not your responsibility."

"Well whose is he?" Harry asked, staring into the depths of his mug. "If everyone keeps saying that people end up with no-one to look after them-"

"Yeah, but at the end of the day, it's _Malfoy_," Ron said. "He's not exactly a mate, is he? He's not a friend who you've not bothered with. He was a shit to you for years."

"I can't just leave him," Harry said firmly, and there must have been something in his tone that made Ron believe he was serious, because he fell quiet, a worried frown creasing his forehead. There was a long pause, in which Harry drank some of his tea and tried to be not too aware that Ron was looking at him thoughtfully. Just before Harry reached the point at which he could no longer take being examined, Ron thankfully spoke again.

"You're really not going to be able to leave it alone, are you?"

Harry slowly shook his head and Ron sighed heavily, running a hand over his face.

"Mate, you've got enough on your plate as it is," Ron said, pushing at his fringe and ruffling it up his forehead. "The kids, work-"

"I can't just leave him," Harry said quietly. "It's not fair." He paused.

"I'd say it's almost fair-"

"Hey," Harry said sternly. "Just because he was a shit doesn't mean he deserved this. Karma isn't that evil."

"Oh really, I seem to remember several drunken conversations in which you said karma was out to get you."

"Do you have to remember everything?" Harry asked irritably and Ron chortled.

"Only the parts which make you look silly. Which reminds me, I haven't told the Ginny-In-Labour-With-Al story in quite a while."

"Not now," Harry groaned. "Dealing with Malfoy, not my moments of abject stupidity, thanks."

"You both seem prone to moments of stupidity, especially around each other."

Harry rolled his eyes. "How come you don't seem to be freaking out about this, anyway? You always hated Malfoy. Probably more than me."

"Well yeah," Ron shrugged. "When we were younger, he was mean to you because he wanted to be your friend. He was mean to me because he was just mean."

"Eloquent."

"But as much as I hate to vouch for him, or validate this crazy scheme of yours, I think you might be right. Maybe it's not all his fault. He's always just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And his Dad was a right prick."

"That's what Luna said," Harry said. "Seemed to think that he'd have been nicer if Lucius had been."

"It's not an excuse," Ron frowned. "I mean, you turned out okay living with the Dursleys."

"But I knew they weren't my parents, I didn't feel like I owed them anything-" he broke off, frowning and flapping his hand in Ron's direction. "Enough psychoanalysis anyway. His dad was a bastard and messed him up. End of."

"Alright," Ron chuckled. "I can understand that. Like when we were younger I just hated him because he was rich and got everything he wanted. Probably wasn't as great as it seemed."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, suddenly feeling unaccountably relieved that Ron was seeing this from his point of view. Sure he was being a bit of a pain and questioning Harry's sanity, but that was what a best friend was supposed to do. He very rarely said how much he appreciated Ron out loud, but he suspected that Ron knew regardless.

"Right," Ron said carefully, stretching out with his hands behind his head. "Before I try and get this all straight…You know I think you're crazy, right?"

Harry managed a weak smile. "I think I'm a bit crazy too."

"Then that's okay. You can always plead insanity if it all goes tits up. But…I get it. I think. Although if Hermione and Ginny flip out I'm telling them I told you no."

"You hero," Harry quipped and Ron grinned at him. "It's not a big deal anyway," Harry continued. "All I want to do is find out if he's alright. Well, I can't imagine him being alright if he's taken up whoring, especially for Muggles."

"Back in school he'd have refused to even go near a Muggle, let alone sleep with one."

"Well that's the point, isn't it? He must be pretty desperate."

"Maybe he just really likes sex."

"I don't think Malfoy's one to like spreading his legs enough to make a career out of it," Harry said pointedly. "He'd been beaten up pretty badly when I saw him as well, nothing nice."

"Really?" Ron asked, looking a little alarmed.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Black eyes, split lip, ripped clothes, the works."

"Ouch," Ron winced. "Fair enough then, we're sure that he's in trouble then, but there's still the issue of whether he'd let you help or not."

"Course he would-"

"Really?"

Harry opened his mouth to say '_yes,_' but something held him back. He shut his mouth again, suddenly realising that Ron had a point. Malfoy could still hate him. Not to mention the high possibility of him being far too proud to accept any help. Harry supposed it depended on whose genes and personality were showing through more now he'd grown older; Lucius's or Narcissa's.

"I don't know," Harry finally said. "I don't know him at all, really. I don't even know if he still hates me, or if he's forgotten all about me."

"Not likely," Ron snorted. Harry shot him a glare but Ron continued, looking serious. "No, I mean it. Especially after the fire; for a pure-blood like him, owing a life-debt is a big deal."

"What should I do?"

"Honestly? I don't know what you can do," Ron said. "All depends on him, really."

"But I-"

"No, not you for once," Ron interjected with a grin and Harry stuck his tongue out in reply.

Ron laughed. "Dead mature. No wonder your kids are such great examples of good behaviour. But anyway, the point I was trying to make is- you are going to try and help him out of whatever mess he's got himself in, yes?"

"Yes, more than likely," Harry sighed. "Saving people thing and all."

"Glad you're no longer in denial about that," Ron replied smartly. "But even if we've grown up and become responsible adults with a spectacular sense of moral responsibility…you've got to count on whether he'll be happy to see you or not. He had enough demons as a kid, and I'll bet he's carrying all sorts around from the war that probably hasn't done anything to help his godawful personality."

Harry frowned. "That's nice. Couldn't take the approach that he might have learned from it and turned over a new leaf?" Ron send him a pointed look and Harry sighed. "Fair point. Odds on Malfoy still being a dick, then."

"Yep," Ron said, raising his mug in mock toast. "I'll take that bet."

"He wasn't that bad when I saw him," Harry tried.

"But he was stinking drunk," Ron replied, putting his mug down and checking his watch. "I bet even Snape was pleasant after a skinful."

"Not likely," Harry muttered with a small sad smile, the same twinge in his heart at the mention of Snape's name. He understood Snape more now he was dead than he had ever done alive, and held a huge amount of respect for the late potions-master.

They lapsed into silence; Harry tapping the edge of the table without really being aware that he was doing it. He felt better now he'd spoken to Ron, but was still somewhat torn over the issue. Ron had raised some good points; mainly reaffirming Harry's suspicion that Malfoy might be less than happy to see him, especially in the state he was in.

He was just wondering what Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy would think about Draco taking up employment as a rentboy, when a thought struck him.

"Did you hear his Mum died?"

Ron nodded slowly, raising an eyebrow, obviously anticipating more.

"Well…if you think about it in magical terms, I owed her a life debt," Harry said carefully, leaving Ron to read into the rest of the unfinished sentence.

"Oh bloody fuck," Ron said, eyes wide. "And seeing as you didn't pay it back in her lifetime, it transfers to Draco, which means you owe him as well as him owing you…" he trailed off and looked at Harry suspiciously, eyes narrowed. "But you don't really believe any of that old-world Magic, do you?"

"I might if it makes me seem less insane for doing this," Harry muttered.

Ron laughed shortly. "Fair point. You'll need as much ammunition as possible if you're ever going to convince Ginny that this is a good idea."

"She doesn't need to know for now," Harry said meaningfully and Ron pulled a face.

"Fine, fine. I'll keep your secret," he glanced at his watch. "_If_ you let me get back to work. Some of us can't just skive off when we feel like it, you know."

"Okay," Harry conceded, draining his tea. "Just…"

Ron stopped halfway through getting up and sat back down, looking at Harry.

"Do you think I should do this?"

"No," he replied promptly. "I think Malfoy is a pain, has been a pain, and will always be pain. But I also think that you're now obsessed with him all over again and will only be bearable as a mate when you've sorted him out."

Harry laughed weakly and stood up. "You have a way with words."

"Don't I just," Ron said bracingly, clapping him on the shoulder before taking out his wand and levitating the cups over to the sink. "Do what you have to do, as long as you are prepared for nagging and lots of piss-taking."

He paused on the way to the door, fixing Harry with a stern look that he had evidently borrowed from his wife. "And, for the love of all that is good on this green earth, don't sleep with him."

Harry's jaw dropped and he gave Ron an indignant shove. "Oi! Just because someone's gay doesn't mean I'm going to immediately jump on them-"

"It's not because he's gay, it's because you're bloody obsessed with him."

"Oh, fuck off."

"You fuck off. See your tomorrow for a beer, yeah?"

"Yep, see you tomorrow. Twat."

* * *

><p>Harry gently opened the door to Al's room, standing quietly in the doorway and letting the soft light from the hall illuminate the scene within, the glow just enough for him to see what was going on. Atop the bed that stood against the near wall, Al and James were just visible, curled up under the same duvet, both fast asleep and looking peaceful.<p>

Careful to avoid the Lego that was strewn across the soft carpet, Harry stepped in, feeling the familiar clench in his heart whenever he saw his two boys. He hadn't ever anticipated loving anybody as much as he did his children, and it still took him unawares at some points, making him feel slightly giddy and disorientated.

He'd put the boys to bed an hour ago, and settled in the lounge with a bottle of Carlsberg and a book, welcoming the time to just try and relax. However, half an hour after they boys had settled in – with a suspicious lack of fuss, it had to be noted – he had heard footsteps padding down the stairs from James's room, along the landing, past the lounge and across to Al's room. He wasn't worried; this was a familiar pattern of events, and as such he'd given it ten minutes before going to investigate.

As predicted, James had abandoned his own room in favour of kipping in with Al. The first time this had happened had been just after baby Alice was born. Harry had asked James about it to try and ascertain if anything were truly amiss, and he still remembered James's scowl and his fierce words; "_I was just_ _looking after him. He's only little, still._"

Smiling at the memory, Harry padded across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He suspected that it wasn't all James trying to be a good big brother; since baby Alice had arrived James had been a little unsettled, and simultaneously annoyed at and protective over Al. Harry suspected that James had inherited a little of his own jealous nature, and definitely a heft dollop of protectiveness from both him and Ginny.

He decided to leave him where he was; this only happened every so often and he suspected it couldn't hurt too much. God knows he often wished he had some company at night, if only for the comfort.

Harry's smile faded as he reached out and brushed his fingers through James's hair. He was glad he'd asked Ginny if he could have the boys for the night; he'd been unable to properly calm down since finding Malfoy and had tried countless things to compose his whirling thoughts. After a bath, a half watched film and some abandoned paperwork he'd given in and floo'd to Ginny's, offering to take the boys.

She had welcomed the prospect of a quieter night and Harry had gladly taken on the distractions the boys had provided, refusals to eat broccoli and get in the bath included.

Until they had gone to bed and he was left to his own devices again, it seemed.

He didn't like how he was feeling about Malfoy, namely because he didn't exactly know how he was feeling. By rights he didn't have any claim or responsibility on him, but for some inexplicable reason he felt they were somehow linked. He gave tentative thought to the issue of the life-debts. Some people truly believed there was magic involved with such acts, and he was beginning to maybe think there _was_ something else at work, apart from a sense of morals. Magic wouldn't care if he and Malfoy hated each other; it would simply see a debt to be paid in both directions.

Hence him now being unable to forget about the git.

He was surprised to feel more than just pity to Malfoy's plight; he also genuinely felt sad that this was how his story had turned out. And on the selfish side of things, he felt a bit put-out that this was what had happened to the life he had saved. He hadn't risked his own neck in that fire for Malfoy to throw it away like this.

Which bought him neatly back to the issue of whether it really was his responsibility to care about said life. Yeah he'd saved him, but did that mean he should now care? Surely saving him had been enough, and they should leave it at that.

Harry shook his head slightly, trying to stop his thoughts circling around the same loop again. Thankful that Al now has a proper bed – one big enough for Harry to lie down on without scrunching his body up uncomfortably – he carefully clambered onto the bed next to James, lying just behind him.

James shifted in his sleep and turned over, nuzzling his face into Harry's chest. Harry felt a lump in his throat and shut his eyes, pressing his face to James's hair and breathing in and out deeply, feeling glad his boys weren't yet too big to tell him to push off when he wanted a hug.

He felt tired. So tired, and strangely alone. He was thankful that he had Ron to talk to, but knew that he was by himself in his desire to track down Malfoy.

Malfoy. Bloody Malfoy. In trouble. _Again._

He had gone through the stage of wishing he'd never met the git, past resolving that he'd have nothing more to do with him, beyond trying to think of an alternative, all the way to being resigned that this tale was far from over. When it came down to it, Malfoy was in a mess, and Harry couldn't live with himself doing nothing about it. He had grown out of hating him a long time ago and had a horrible feeling that if he didn't do something, no-one would.

Sleep pulled at him; he felt lethargy creeping through his limbs and his eyelids growing heavy. He didn't move; he wanted to stay there with his boys, their sleeping figures a comfort he couldn't expect to find anywhere else.

He had a vague thought, wondering if Malfoy had someone to comfort him, or if he was alone that night. It made him strangely sad to think of him by himself with his black eyes and his bruised lip, but Harry slipped unstoppably into sleep before he could work out why.


	5. Chapter 5

_**AN: **Sorry about the double alert - accidentally uploaded the wrong chapter first time around. Thank you to navetconfit and Isaah for fixing my French, in this chapter and beyond._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

"I want to stay here!"

"I know you do," Harry said, exasperated. "But you've got to go to school and I've got to go to work."

"Pleeease-"

"Baby."

Al stopped swinging around Harry's legs to shoot James a scowl. "I'm not a baby."

"Yeah y'are," James said through a mouthful of toast, tugging at the hem of his jumper. "Dad, I don't want to wear this."

"Tough," Harry said. "Mum says jumpers so you have to wear jumpers."

"It's too warm," James said, scrunching his nose up. "S'June."

"Take it off when you get to school then," Harry sighed. "Just don't lose it. Come on, find your shoes. Luna'll be here in a minute to take you to school-"

"Luna!" Al exclaimed and let go of Harry, snatching his own jumper out of Harry's hand and shoving his head into it. "Yeah, I like it when Luna takes us to school, she tells good stories."

"Why don't you take us?" James asked Harry, crouching under the table and pulling his shoes out, slipping them onto his hands and clapping the soles together. "Stupid Hugh Smith always asks why our proper Dad doesn't take us to school."

"He does?" Harry asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah," James shrugged, turning around and walking his shoe-hands down the table.

"You know I would if I could," Harry said, leaning over to pull the sleeves of Al's jumper the right way through as he struggled to push his hands through. "Shoes off the table."

James heaved a sigh and dropped his shoes to the floor, shoving his feet into them without bothering to untie the laces. "I don't really mind. Mrs Kettleman gets all weird when you turn up at parents evening anyway. And Neville's alright. Told Hugh's Dad to stop being an idiot."

Harry fought to keep a straight face, resisting the urge to laugh and instead summoning Al's shoes from the other end of the room. Ah, to be seven and only have the worries of primary school to be bothered with.

"Al, come here," he said, crouching down with the shoes in his hand, but his voice went unheard as the kitchen fire erupted into green flames and a familiar yet unexpected face popped up, their eyes scanning the room.

"DAD! Someone in the fire!" James dived under the table and scrambled under it to reach Harry. Harry winced, knowing it would be all too soon before tear-me-not charms no longer worked and they would have to buy James yet _another_ school uniform. Al ran over and joined James behind Harry, clinging to his back and peering over his shoulder with wide eyes.

"Ellis?" Harry asked, bewildered, reaching out and putting a hand on the edge of the table to steady himself. "Boys, it's alright."

"Who is it? You said people would only come in through the sofa room," James asked suspiciously.

"It's someone from work," Harry reassured him. "And he can't get through, he can only call. He turned to address Ellis who was looking at him earnestly. "Why are you calling? What's happened?"

"Wanted to catch you before you left, sorry – I didn't know you'd have the kids. And I know this is your emergency only floo port-"

"It's alright," Harry said, trying to gently displace Al who was leaning further and further over Harry's shoulder, forcing him to lean forwards. "What's wrong?"

"I wondered if you'd do one of my pick-ups?" Ellis asked without preamble.

Harry opened his mouth indignantly. "I didn't give you the floo password so you could call me for that! No way!"

Ellis opened his mouth to reply but Harry heard a dull _thunk_ from upstairs and then footsteps reverberating through the ceiling. A lilting voice called out, drifting down the stairs-

"LUNA!"

Shrieking, James and Al pushed away from Harry and raced away, jostling each other on their way through the kitchen door. Harry cringed, hoping they wouldn't knock her over when they decided to jump on her. He got to his feet and walked past the end of the table, crouching down again closer to the fire so he could talk to Ellis properly.

"So they're the infamous kids," Ellis commented with a raised eyebrow. "Seem excitable."

"Excitable is putting it bloody lightly," Harry muttered and then shook his head, frowning at Ellis. "I've got to get them ready for school, get Campbell to do your pick up."

"I think you should do it."

"Bugger off," Harry began crossly, but then paused, catching the meaningful look Ellis was sending his way, obvious even through the flickering flames. "Hang on- is it-?"

"Malfoy junior, in Eversham district station," Ellis said in a rush. "Go and get him before someone else does. He's in big trouble with the Muggles, that's twice in two days he's been taken in. They didn't get anything on him yesterday- he refused to say who'd given him the beating, but today I think that it's him that's in trouble."

Harry gaped at Ellis for a moment and then turned his head distractedly as Luna and the boys came back in, chattering excitedly. He looked back to the fire, running a hand through his hair agitatedly. "Why are you asking me now? Last time you wouldn't even let me talk to him."

"I didn't realise what a big deal it was for you until you ran off," Ellis said. "Look, take the chance or don't. I'm rushed off my feet with the Hightops work and thought you might like to finally get to talk to him face to face," he said bluntly. "Then maybe you'll stop banging on about him."

"Okay, yeah," Harry said, his mind immediately on overdrive. "I'll go. Thanks."

"Get there in twenty minutes or I'll get in trouble," Ellis said, glancing back at something on his side of the flames. "And for gods sake do _not_ tell Shaw or Roberts that I knew who it was when I sent you."

"Okay," Harry said a little breathlessly. "Yes, I'll go. I owe you one."

"Alright," Ellis nodded briskly and then with a pop, he was gone.

Harry scrambled to his feet, his heart thudding in his chest. This was perfect – he could go and get this sorted out today without any more wondering or stupid moral dilemmas. He could talk to Malfoy face to face and start getting everything put back in its proper place.

"Everything alright?" Luna asked mildly from behind him, disturbing his inner monologue. "You look a bit flushed."

"Sorry - was Ellis from work," Harry said, gesturing to the fire. "Asked if I'd do a pick-up for him."

"That's not your job," Luna said, watching as Al tugged his shoes on, sitting on the floor near her feet. Harry made to go over to tie them up but someone beat him to it; he paused and watched with a smile as James knelt down and slowly tied Al's shoelaces, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Harry?"

"It's Malfoy," Harry finally said and Luna looked up in surprise. "He's in trouble. I need to help him out. I know it sounds crazy-"

"Oh no, not really," Luna said, waving her wand and summoning the kids lunchboxes; Harry hastily ducked as they flew haphazardly across the room. "You owe his Mother a life-debt after all. Tell him I said hello."

"Thank you," Harry said fervently. "_Thank you._"

He hastily stepped over and dropped to his knees, pulling the boys into a hug. They hugged him back tightly, for once not bickering about whose arms were in the way of whose and who was getting the better hug.

"You two are brilliant, you know that? Sorry I've got to rush," Harry said, pressing a kiss to both their heads.

They both pulled back, Al beaming at the praise and James looking at him seriously. "It's okay. Go and catch bad guys."

"Okay boss," Harry laughed and gave them a last squeeze before climbing to his feet. "See you on Friday."

"Yeah, yeah," James called as he took his lunchbox from Luna and headed towards the door. "Friday."

"Bye Dad!" Al chased after James and Harry shot Luna a weary smile as they heard them clattering up the stairs towards the floo.

"Sorry," he said with a sigh. "I know this is last minute again."

"Well you can't really take them yourself. And you heard him," Luna said, folding her arms and smiling at him. "Go and catch bad guys."

"Dinner next week?" Harry offered. "A thank you?"

"That would be lovely," Luna nodded and then meandered towards the doorway after the boys. "Be careful today." She paused in the doorway and regarded him seriously. "And just make sure you don't have sex with Draco if he's still being mean to you."

Harry choked and spluttered on air, trying to from a decent retort but she was gone, leaving him alone and rather bewildered, staring at the doorway. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tug his fringe down over his scar, before giving up and frowning, grumbling to himself.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?"

* * *

><p>"Why am I asking all this? Because it's my job, that's why."<p>

Officer M Brown wasn't as nearly as helpful as Officer D Hand had been, much to Harry's chagrin. A fresh faced woman in her twenties, with blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, she had been questioning Harry about what he was doing there for the last twenty minutes.

"Yes, and you're stopping me doing my job," Harry replied, trying to keep his temper under check.

"Just have to be thorough," she said, raising her eyebrows as she looked down at the paperwork in her hands. "You know how it is, data protection and everything."

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "I do understand," he said levelly. "But I need to talk to him. It'll be better for everyone if we can get to the bottom of this and maybe get him on an intervention, stop him being arrested so often."

"Seems fair," she said. "Give us twenty minutes to process our stuff and then you can have him."

Harry bit his tongue and slowly counted to five. "I'd rather talk to him now."

She shook her head.

"Fine," he said, pulling out the chair that was opposite her desk and plunking himself down into it. "Twenty minutes. Fill me in."

"You're kidding, right?" she asked, unimpressed. "I've got a lot to do."

"Please."

She sighed and dropped her paperwork. "All I know was he was involved in a fight in the lobby of a hotel and removed himself from the scene before we could get there, taking a wallet from someone on the way."

"Stealing?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, that was implied in the taking of the wallet," she replied, fixing him with a deadpan stare.

"Just asking."

"I'm sure."

She pushed her chair back and got up, not looking at him. "Stay here."

He scowled at her back as she left the room, heading back out into the lobby of the police station. He'd been ushered into the offices as soon as he'd arrived and found himself blocked at every turn as he tried to convince them to let him talk to Malfoy. He didn't like Confunding police officers, but some of them really did push it some days.

Even as he contemplated going out front to demand some answers, the door pushed open again. Another officer stood in the doorway but Harry's attention was immediately drawn elsewhere, his heart jolting in his chest: visible through the open doorway was a very familiar figure, leaning against the counter in almost the same spot in which Harry had stood talking to Officer Hand the day before.

"Sorry for the wait."

Harry barely heard the apology; he stood up hastily, knocking the chair with the backs of his legs, his eyes fixated on the blond figure he could still see. Malfoy's wrists were cuffed together and he was lounging on the counter, looking for all the world like he couldn't care less about being arrested.

The door swung shut and Harry blinked, turning his attention to the officer who was eyeing him with interest.

"You here for the French kid?" he asked, scratching his beard. "He's a funny one."

"A funny one?" Harry asked, folding his arms across his chest, for some reason unwilling to offer the man a handshake.

"Yeah," the officer said, without expanding. "Funny."

"Can I talk to him yet?"

"You seem very interested."

"It's my job," Harry said, rapidly losing patience. Now he'd seen Malfoy, he just wanted to get out there and speak to him.

"Mmm," The officer said. "You know he's a nasty piece of work? Very sly. Gets away with bloody murder if you ask me."

"I didn't," Harry replied shortly, but inwardly felt doubt crawling up his spine. What if this guy was right? What if Malfoy hadn't changed at all?

"Oh," the officer didn't seem perturbed by Harry's short reply, and carried on looking at him curiously. "So are you here on official business or something else?"

Harry looked blankly at the officer who gave him a meaningful glance.

"You know. _His_ line of business."

Harry's jaw dropped and he stared incredulously at the police officer for a moment, hardly daring to believe what he'd just asked, what he was hinting at. His first instinct was to punch the guy, anger bubbling up inside him at the suggestion, building on his annoyance at Malfoy for getting himself in trouble again, and for bloody _stealing_ of all things. What, was he still twelve or something?

He pushed memories of Malfoy's past indiscretions a little to the side and growled with frustration. Malfoy was a bloody _idiot_. Harry somehow managed to keep his cool, settling with shooting the officer a suitably unimpressed look. Without another word he pushed past him and wrenched open the door, about to march out there and demand to talk to Malfoy, to finally get his chance without anyone else bloody interfering-

"Papa!"

Harry stopped dead in the doorway as he heard an excited shout, his limbs freezing in place. His jaw dropped again as Malfoy turned around from the counter he'd been leaning on, instantly sinking to his knees on the floor of the police-station, only to be promptly bowled backwards by the small blond child that threw themselves on him.

"You _are_ here! I waited forever-" the child said, his face buried in Draco's shoulder.

"I know, I'm sorry. Come here, brat."

Harry watched in disbelief as the child obediently clambered off of Draco, long enough for Draco to sit up and lift his hands up, apart at the elbows but still shackled at the wrists, so the boy could climb back onto his knee and wriggle in-between his arms. He knelt on Draco's knees, settling with small hands placed on Draco's cheeks.

"Are you in trouble?" he asked, wide eyed. Christ, the kid looked as alike to Draco as Al did to Harry.

"Only a bit," Draco replied with a small wan smile.

Harry clacked his jaw shut and stepped back hastily so Draco wouldn't spot him, turning back to the officer who was still stood behind him. "He's got a kid?" he hissed, reaching over and pulling the door shut a fraction, just in case Draco were to look up in his direction.

This fucking changed _everything_.

"Oh, yeah," the officer nodded. "_Scorpius_." He said with a grimace. "Weird names, I know. Some new age French shit."

"How the hell-? But-" Harry was flabbergasted. Since when had Draco Malfoy acquired a miniature version of himself anyway? Harry changed another glance around the edge of the door. _Fuck,_ but that kid looked like his dad; grey eyes, pointy chin and all.

"We tried to have the kid taken off him a few times, you know? Got social services involved." The officer said, scratching his chin again and looking thoughtful. "Didn't think it was right, with the amount of times he lands in here. Not entirely sure what happened there actually…"

The officer trailed off, looking a little puzzled and Harry immediately grew suspicious; after all it would be far too easy for any wizard to cast a discreet _confundus_ and make a police officer forget what paperwork he was meant to be filling in…

He shook himself and looked around the edge of the door again; he couldn't help himself. It had been enough of a shock to find himself a father at the age of twenty, but to know _Malfoy_ was part of the acting-responsible-and-pretending-to-be-grown-up club…Ron was not going to _believe_ this.

"I think he'd kill us if we interfered with the kid again," the officer said, apparently not noticing Harry's state of shock. "He was not very happy at all. Messed up morals from the heart, that one."

"I don't believe it," Harry muttered, rubbing his eye sockets with enough force to make white spots dance in front of his eyes.

This threw all of his previous conclusions straight out of the window; now he had to think about the fact Malfoy had a kid. How could he bloody live like this if he had a child? Harry just couldn't understand it. There was a fleeting impulse to run away again before his head exploded, but he pushed it away, stepping back into the room so he could just collect himself for a moment.

It didn't take nearly as long as he expected.

Malfoy was still in trouble. He still wanted to help. And now he had even more reason to help; the small child that apparently belonged to Malfoy. He couldn't leave him in this mess, what with the increasing frequency of Malfoy's arrests, and his erratic behaviour.

"I thought you wanted to talk to him?"

Harry rubbed his face vigorously as the officer's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Right," he muttered, his brain going onto autopilot. "Put him in a questioning room. I want to talk to him alone. Don't tell him who I am."

"What about the kid?"

"Leave him with him," Harry said. "I don't want to wind him up."

The man nodded and then left. Harry couldn't resist stealing another glance through the door before it swung shut. He waited for a minute so they could get Malfoy into a private room, unwilling to have a showdown with his old rival in the foyer of a Muggle police station, and then reached for the door.

"Well here goes nothing," he muttered, wishing in the back of his mind that today was a normal, boring day in which he went out, Obliviated people and then went home.

"He's in room two," the blonde officer said, walking over to Harry's side. "I think it'll be better if I go with you."

"What, and play good cop, bad cop?" Harry asked, irritated. "I'm talking to him alone. Go fill in your paperwork."

"You can't just march in here and give out orders-"

"Technically he can, if he's anything to do with the Interpol mess. The owner isn't pressing charges so we probably can't keep him here anyway," another voice chipped in and Harry resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the blonde woman, instead choosing to smile brightly at her before walking off towards questioning room two.

He paused just outside the room, his fingers resting on the stainless steel handle. One last flicker of doubt swam through him; was this really the best idea? Once he went into that room, there was no going back. He took a deep breath and then tightened his grip on the handle summoning his inner Gryffindor and pushing inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

The look on Draco's face at seeing Harry appear in the room would have been laughable if the situation weren't so convoluted. He looked up instantly and his jaw literally dropped, his already pale face growing deathly white, staring at Harry like he'd seen a ghost.

"Oh bloody fuck."

"Papa!" The boy – Scorpius – twisted on Draco's lap, looking up at him indignantly. Draco didn't look back at him, or even acknowledge he'd heard anything; instead he carried on staring at Harry, looking shellshocked.

"What are you doing here?" he managed, his voice faint. His hands had been uncuffed at some point and one was now clutching the edge of the tabletop so hard his knuckles were white.

"I hear you're in trouble-" Harry began, but Draco cut him off before he could, interrupting and looking alarmed.

"Can't hex me," he said hastily, immediately wrapping long arms around Scorpius, who frowned and tried to push Draco's arms away. "Got a kid."

"I'm not going to hex you," Harry said, bewildered. "Why would I hex you?"

"Because you hate me, every time someone picks me up I get hexed, and the last time I saw you I threw up on your feet."

"I don't hate you," Harry began, taking a step forward. Draco instantly pushed his chair backwards and staggered out of it, still holding tightly onto Scorpius who tried to wriggle free. Harry immediately stopped, holding his hands up in front of him in a gesture of surrender.

"Papa! Lâche-moi, o_uch-_"

Draco heaved the boy up so he was balanced more comfortably on his hip, still backing away from Harry and not stopping until his back hit the plain grey wall of the questioning room. "No, no, no-" he insisted, holding Scorpius tightly to him with one arm. "Don't come near me. Look, I'm _sorry_ I threw up on you alright? Just go away and leave me alone, I'll keep out the way, I swear. I didn't mean to get in trouble today-"

"Malfoy! God, shut up for a second would you? I'm here to get you out of trouble- not get you in more!"

Draco shut his mouth, frowning at Harry and looking distinctly uncertain. Harry frowned right back, trying and failing not to look at the young boy on Draco's hip. He was clinging to Draco tightly, his fists bunched in the material of Draco's shirt and his face resting on his shoulder. His wide grey eyes were on Harry, looking a lot calmer than his father did.

The silence stretched out to uncomfortable proportions, at least for Harry. Draco didn't seem like he was going to open his mouth again anytime soon; in fact he looked like he regretted opening it at all in the first place. In all honesty, Harry had no idea what to say now he finally had Draco in a position to hold a conversation with. If anything, he was a little disconcerted that Draco hadn't been angrier at his appearance, and was instead tripping over himself to apologise. Just like the old Draco, really, trying to avoid a potential confrontation. At least his voice wasn't as whiny as it used to be.

Harry felt irritated, almost irrationally so, and couldn't quite work out why. He'd defended Malfoy to Ron before, but now every rational thought was slipping under the pressure of actually seeing Draco again. His eyes were still faintly bruised – clearly Draco had healed them, but not well. He still looked a mess, and it made something deep in Harry's chest twist in anger.

"We need to sort this mess out," Harry finally said. "Tell me exactly what happened today."

"Why are you here?" Draco asked, ignoring Harry's question. "This isn't your job."

"It is today," Harry said sharply. "Now sit down."

Draco shook his head. "No."

Harry walked over to the table and hooked his ankle around the leg of the chair that stood on the opposite side of the table to Draco, roughly pulling it around. He sank into it and raised an eyebrow at Draco as he hitched Scorpius up again. Harry knew his arms must have been aching; kids were _heavy._

"Sit," he repeated. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Draco shook his head again and Harry felt annoyance flare through him. "Fine," he snapped. "Stay standing. I don't care. Now are you going to tell me what's going on, or not?"

Draco blinked at him. "Aren't you meant to be getting me out of here?"

Harry barked a laugh. "Should I be?"

"Well then why are you here?" Draco replied irritably. "Let them charge me if you're not going to get me out."

"I'm here because you're an ongoing pain in the arse," Harry retorted. "You keep getting arrested-"

"The Muggles don't give a shit-"

"-by us _and_ the Muggles," Harry continued, speaking loudly over Draco's interjection. "Which is a massive pain for us because of the Statute of Secrecy, not to mention the fact you're breaking laws on an almost daily basis. I mean, come on. _Stealing_, Malfoy?"

"I gave it back," Draco flared up at once, reminding Harry forcibly of him as he was in third year. "I _did."_

"You shouldn't have taken it in the first place!"

"Alright, I _know_." Malfoy snapped, shutting his eyes. "I did wrong, got myself caught, there you go. Why is this such a big deal all of a sudden?" he asked, rubbing his cheek. "Normally I get arrested, processed and sent on my merry way to fend for myself."

"Because now I'm involved," Harry said shortly. "And I can't just let you go-"

"You _can_," Draco insisted, and then voice dropped, taking on a hint of urgency. "Look I'm sorry for everything, I really am, you can't hold that against me now-"

"That is not what this is about," Harry cut in, a dangerous edge to his voice. He didn't want to go there, not now. "But keep bringing it up and it might be."

Draco's expression shifted from desperate to bitter in the blink of an eye. "How is this remotely fair? _You _coming to talk to me."

"How is what you're doing fair on your son?" Harry shot back. "Swings and roundabouts, Malfoy."

"Fuck off," Draco snapped back, placing one hand over Scorpius's ear and holding his head to his chest. Scorpius made a noise of protest and pushed at Draco's hand. "You have no idea."

"I have some idea," Harry shot back flippantly. "I've seen your records."

Harry swore he could track the emotions as they flittered over Draco's face just by looking at him; first was shock, followed swiftly by anger and then his cheeks coloured with something like shame.

"Fuck you, Potter," he finally said, his voice trembling. "Go on then, get it over with. Get on your moral high horse and say your piece."

Harry opened his mouth but then shut it again as Scorpius ducked his head out from under Draco's hand, turning to look at Harry. _Bollocks._ He couldn't say anything, not with the kid there.

"No thanks," He said after a pause. "I don't think my views on what you're doing should be heard by your kid."

"Don't talk about him," Draco replied fiercely, twisting away as if he could get Scorpius away from Harry just by putting himself between them. "Don't you dare. Don't even look at him."

"Oh because _I'm_ such a bad influence?" Harry said, laughing low and bitter. "Pot calling the cauldron black, Malfoy."

"Why are you suddenly so bothered?" Draco demanded, ignoring the taunt. "Over a year back in this stupid country and I hear nothing from anyone, and now you're trying to _help?_"

"Yeah because it's not just you who's being dragged through this mess! You've got a child-"

"That's not it," Draco replied angrily. "You didn't know I had a son until today, and it seems a bit of a coincidence that you turn up _again _only days after you take me in to the Ministry."

"Okay, maybe I wanted to find you, to check on you."

"_Check on me?_" Draco asked, his voice thick with disbelief and well on the way to hysterical.

"Yes, I didn't want to leave you in this state, not knowing what's happened to you."

"Oh right, there it is," Draco snapped. "Just like everyone else. Never give a damn about what's actually happening to me, you just want to know to satisfy your own sick curiosity. Give you something to gossip about at the next Gryffindor reunion, right?" Draco ranted, obviously running out of control. "The way I see it, this isn't any of your business- so why don't you just push off and leave us alone?"

"I can't alright?" Harry said heatedly, close to shouting. "I _can't."_

"_Why?_"

"Because I didn't save your life to have you fuck it up like this! For Christ's sake, Malfoy, I mean, stooping to whoring yourself out-"

"STOP IT!"

At Draco's shout, silence fell between them. Harry was breathing heavily through his nose and Draco staring right back at him, his jaw clenched and his eyes bright. Christ, this was out of hand already and they'd barely had half a conversation. Harry didn't quite understand why he was so angry; he thought maybe it had something to do with the fact Draco was whoring himself out when he was supposed to be being a father. That, along with the pitiable state Draco was in. It made Harry uncomfortable and edgy in a way he couldn't recognise, and he wasn't sure if his anger was directed at Draco for getting himself into this state, or everyone else for letting it happen.

Draco took a deep breath in before speaking again, fighting to keep his voice level. "I don't care what you say to me. Just stop it whilst he's here. _Christ_."

Harry belatedly glanced down at the child they had been arguing over and felt guilt flicker through him; for the first time since Harry had entered the room Scorpius looked genuinely distressed. Fuck. Harry resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Whilst getting angry over the situation with the kid he'd completely overlooked the fact he was even there.

"What do you want?" Draco asked, his desperate voice interrupting Harry's thoughts. "I can't work it out – look, I'll keep out of your way. I'll even move. I'll go back to France if I have to."

"Christ, just be quiet for once in your life," Harry said, rubbing his temples and trying to get his brain working. The lights in here were starting to give him a headache already. Or maybe it was Malfoy, it was difficult to tell. "And for god's sake sit down."

Silently, Draco complied, sliding into the chair with Scorpius on his knee. Harry pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eye sockets with the heels of his palm and then looked up, blinking at the blurry blond figures sat opposite him. He sighed and picked his glasses back up, shoving them back on his nose.

Scorpius was watching him through wary eyes, his fingers twisting in the material of Draco's shirt. Draco had his own eyes shut; the lower half of his face was pressed to the top of Scorpius's head, nuzzling at the blond strands, and Harry was struck with how tired he suddenly looked. All the fight and desperation was gone, leaving nothing but a man who quite clearly wanted to go home.

Harry watched him, feeling disconcerted. Maybe his intuition had been right all along, and that Malfoy didn't have much choice in the matter. Maybe he was just trying to get by in a world that wouldn't give him a second chance, to provide for his child. Maybe getting angry at him hadn't been the best idea.

"So," Harry finally said after nearly two minutes of silence, pressing his knees against the edge of the table and pushing back so his chair tilted on two legs. "His name's Scorpius?"

Draco eyed him suspiciously. "Yes."

"How old is he?"

Draco's frown deepened. "Why?"

"Just asking."

There was a pause. "Four," he finally said, eyes never leaving Harry's.

"My youngest is four," Harry said with a shrug. "Al."

"I'd heard," Draco said, a sullen hint to his voice. "Papers. Gossip and stuff."

He looked away from Harry down to Scorpius who looked back up at him, blond hair ruffling on Draco's shirt. It was longer than Draco's but not by much, Harry noted.

"You okay?" Draco murmured and Scorpius nodded.

"Who's that man?" he asked in an audible whisper.

Draco's eyes flicked up to Harry's, uncertain. Harry let the chair fall forwards onto all four legs again, clearing his throat. "I'm Harry. I'm a friend," he said and shot Draco a warning look as his eyebrows flew up. "I'm here to help."

Scorpius looked at him through slightly narrowed eyes. "Friends don't shout."

Harry laughed, short and surprised. "You're right," he said ruefully, scratching the back of his head. "I'm sorry. See, I went to school with your dad, and I've not seen him in a long time."

"Es-tu fâché parce qu'il était parti?"

Draco nudged Scorpius gently. The light caught on his earrings and they sparked briefly, drawing Harry's eyes. "Il ne parle pas français. En anglais."

Harry's eyes widened and he resisted the urge to shake his head from side to side to clear his brain. Christ. People like Malfoy should not be allowed to speak French like that. He was so distracted he nearly missed Scorpius's question, phrased this time in English.

"Are you angry because he's been away?"

Harry hesitated and then nodded slowly. "A bit angry. A bit sad," he said slowly, eyes on Scorpius.

"Sad? Did you miss him?"

"That's enough," Draco said sharply, and Scorpius turned surprised eyes on him.

"Just asking, Papa," he said and Draco nodded.

"I know, but Potter has a job to do and we can't waste his time with a million questions."

Scorpius grinned. "Maybe five questions?" he asked, holding his hand up with his fingers spread out.

Draco smiled weakly, the first Harry had seen since he'd arrived. "Non. Un autre jour." He ran his hand over Scorpius's hair and then looked to Harry, his countenance defeated.

"Go on then," he said, his arm tightening slightly around Scorpius. "What will it be?"

"I don't know," Harry said honestly. "I can't work you out. I don't know whether to take you in to the Ministry and have you tried for knowingly breaking the Statute of Secrecy, leave you to the Muggles to be strung up for stealing, or do something else entirely."

"What would the something else entail?" Draco asked carefully.

"Depends on you, Malfoy," Harry said slowly. "Are you going to let me help?"

Malfoy's mouth fell open, a perfect 'O' of surprise. "You want to help?"

"Don't ask me why," Harry said, trying to smile. "But yes."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "So you're not here to make my life difficult?"

"You're doing pretty well on that score by yourself," Harry said pointedly, before continuing. "But no."

"I don't trust you," Malfoy said flatly.

"Who do you trust?" Harry asked him. "Who else is looking out for you?"

"I don't need your pity," Malfoy snapped.

"It's not pity," Harry said. "It's just...look, I don't even know. But I want to help. This isn't right and you don't deserve this."

Draco didn't reply for a while. "It's...complicated," he finally said. "I've got some people looking out for me," he said carefully. "People who wouldn't be too thrilled with you being involved."

Harry frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Who would Draco have looking out for him? And if they were, why was he still in such a state?

Oh.

Harry's eyes widened. "Your...employers, maybe?"

"Who wouldn't take too kindly to one of their employees hanging around with a law enforcement officer, least of all the Saviour of the Wizarding World."

"Well then we'll get you a different line of work," Harry said simply. "They don't have to be in charge."

"Potter, stop," Draco said, his voice tight. "It's not as easy as you think. So drop it, and if you really want to help, get us the hell out of here and then forget you ever saw me."

Harry leant back into his chair, feeling confused and wrong footed. He wanted to help, but not by those specifications. He couldn't let this go, not now, not whilst Malfoy was being almost civil and they'd stopped shouting, and the kid was watching him with those wide grey eyes.

"I can't let you go back," Harry said.

"You have to," Draco replied, not meeting his gaze. "I'll be in more trouble if you don't."

Frustration was steadily rising in Harry's chest. If he was in this situation he'd be grateful for the offer and take it without question, but then again he wasn't a pure blood prat with trust and loyalty issues.

"Fine," he said, running a hand through his hair and thinking. "Fine. I'll get you out, and get you off the stealing charge, but only if you agree to a few things first."

"No," Draco said immediately. "I won't."

"Shut it, you don't know what I'm going to suggest," Harry said sharply. Draco shut his trap, eyeing Harry resentfully.

"One; you stop stealing shit. Two; you make sure you don't get caught by anyone from the Ministry. No wandering around in Muggle areas when you're pissed. Three; if you get in trouble, you call me and I come and get you."

Draco frowned. "How am I meant to call you?"

Harry had his answer prepared. He dug in his pocket and pulled out two Galleons, dropping them onto the tabletop. He reached down the neck of his T-shirt to pull out his wand, quickly whispering a concealment charm, lest the cameras be on and filming.

"What are you doing?"

Harry ignored Draco's suspicious question and muttered an incantation, concentrating hard on the Galleons on the table. They both rattled and shone blue, and then were still.

"There," he said. "You hold that and say my name and I'll hear and be able to find you."

"A tracking charm? Get lost, Potter."

"It's not a tracking charm, prat," Harry said impatiently. "I'll only know where you are _if _you activate it."

"Oh."

Draco still looked like here were struggling to think of an objection, but then gave up, huffing and snatching the Galleon off of the table. "I'm not going to use it."

"That's your call," Harry said, standing up and pocketing his own Galleon.

"Good," Draco said, lifting Scorpius off his knee and putting him on the floor, standing up beside him. "I'm glad we got that clear."

"Papa, I'm hungry," Scorpius said, reaching for his hand.

"I know, brat. Dinner as soon as we get back, promise," Draco said tiredly. "Now work your magic, Potter. Confund the hell out of this place so I can go home."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes milord."

* * *

><p>"Well, here you are," Harry said, stopping at the end of the alley and leaning against the rough brick wall, folding his arms across his chest. "Free to go."<p>

Draco looked around them, hitching Scorpius up in his arms. The boy had walked most of the way to the apparation point, but the moment he'd shown signs of fatigue Draco had scooped him up to carry him, the blond head resting tiredly on his shoulder.

"Thank you," he said, not meeting Harry's gaze.

"You're welcome," Harry said, a little taken-aback at the words. "Remember what I said about calling?"

"Yes," Draco said irritably. "Don't count on it."

Scorpius lifted his head off of Draco's shoulder to look at Harry. "Quand est-ce qu'on va te revoir?"

"English," Draco said half-heartedly.

"When will we see you next?" Scorpius asked.

Harry smiled at him. "Not sure. Hopefully soon."

Scorpius smiled back and Draco shot Harry a glare. "Stop it," he muttered under his breath. "I _told_ you-"

"And I'm just saying. Even if you don't like the idea, I'm here to help. For his sake if not your own," he said flatly and Draco jerked his head in reluctant agreement.

"Fine," he muttered, and then shifted Scorpius so he could look straight at him. "Okay? Hold your nose, shut your eyes and we'll count to three."

"See you around, Malfoy," Harry said, stepping back. Draco glanced at him, didn't reply, and then counted to three, disappearing with a crack and leaving Harry alone in the alley.

He sighed, scuffing his shoe in the dirt. He remembered Draco pocketing the Galleon and Scorpius's bright expression, and smiled tiredly himself. Really, considering the grand scheme of things...it could have gone a lot worse.


	6. Chapter 6

_**AN**: Yes I know it's a day late - FFdotnet wouldn't let me log in yesterday. Sorry - next week will be Thursday as usual unless anything else goes amiss. Also I'm trying to make a comprehensive list of fic as a sort of starting point for anyone looking around fandom - a rec list of sorts to help share work. If you have any good story recs (any pair, any rating, any era, anything goes) MESSAGE ME (don't leave it in a review because I won't go looking for it again) and I'll add it to the list. Thank you!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

"So. Going to tell me why no-one wanted me to go and find Malfoy?"

"The rule, Potter. For the love of all that is magical, the _rule_."

Harry grinned and sauntered into Roberts's office, a cup of coffee in his hand. He slid it onto the desk, sinking into the chair opposite Roberts. "There. That must be at least two."

Roberts glared at him across the desk. "I'm making a new rule. No questions about Malfoy."

"I found him, you know," Harry said, flicking fluff off of his knee, foregoing the preamble of asking how Roberts knew that he would be bringing up Malfoy.

"I heard," Roberts grumbled. "Which is why Ellis is now stuck doing all of my interns paperwork for the next three days."

"How do you know it was Ellis?" Harry asked.

Roberts shot him an '_I am not stupid so shut your trap, Potter'_ look, and snatched up the cup of coffee Harry had brought in. "Kingsley is going to have your balls for interfering," he said to Harry, bringing the coffee cup up to his nose and inhaling deeply.

"No he won't," Harry said dismissively. "It's just Malfoy."

Roberts blinked and looked at him, as if he couldn't quite believe Harry was actually that stupid. "He's not just Malfoy, you great scar-headed tosspot," he said, and Harry flipped him two fingers. "He's an ex-Death Eater who escaped Azkaban by the skin of his teeth - which we're still getting shit for by the way, no thanks to you."

"Really?" Harry asked, taken aback. "I thought he was granted immunity from arrest for all that?" he paused, suspicious. "And what do you mean no thanks to me?"

"You, you silly wanker, with your Lady Malfoy saved the day speech and that faff with you turning up with his wand," Roberts said. "Meant if we'd have then gone and chucked him in Azkaban there'd have been a public relations nightmare because we'd have disagreed with _you_."

"What the fuck?" Harry gaped. "Are you serious? All I said was that it wasn't his fault-"

"When are you going to learn that sometimes what you say is given more weight than our bloody laws?" Roberts said with a sigh. "I'm going to hex your mouth shut one day."

Harry looked at him indignantly. "I don't ask anyone to listen to what I say!"

"I'll bear that in mind."

"Oh fuck off," Harry said. "So why have you all been so adamant that I don't run into him?"

"Because we don't want you to waste your life savings on his arse," Roberts shot back.

Harry raised an eyebrow and chose to ignore the not-quite-sarcastic-enough suggestion that he would actually consider paying for Malfoy's services. Christ. First of all he wasn't _that_ desperate, and secondly, he didn't bloody fancy Malfoy. "You know?"

"Of course we bloody know," Roberts sighed. "Look, we know about your history with that guy and we thought it might be better if you didn't know he was about. You're very easily distracted, and according to some people he's been a distraction more than once for you."

Harry opened and shut his mouth a few times. "Only, just because he was up to stuff," he tried to defend himself. "It's not a distraction like _that_."

"I'll bet," Roberts snorted and Harry shot him a glare.

"You're being a right-"

"Harry?"

Harry span around hastily at the sound of Kingsley's voice, standing up awkwardly. Kingsley was stood in the doorway of the office, peering in and looking expectant.

"Minister," he nodded, trying to push his chair out of his way and stand up straight.

"A word?" he asked and Harry nodded.

"Course."

Kingsley turned in the doorway and Harry turned to look at Roberts, who mouthed _"I told you so_." He pulled a face at him and turned to follow Kingsley, who was waiting just outside the door, his eyes on a sheaf of parchment in his hand.

"I hear you've had an interesting few days?" Kingsley said, looking up from his papers and starting to walk down the corridor, Harry at his side.

Scratching the back of his head awkwardly, Harry made a non-committal sound.

"_Harry._"

Harry cringed internally. He didn't know what it was but Kingsley somehow still made him feel sixteen, not twenty-six.

"I may have bumped into Malfoy…"

"Hmm. Just bumped into him?"

"Well…"

Kingsley glanced at him, his expression bordering on amused, but that quickly faded into seriousness. "You've got to leave him alone," he said without preamble, his tone blunt. "You're potentially making things very difficult."

Harry was taken aback. "I'm not meaning to," he said with a frown. "I just wanted to know what was going on with him, and seeing as no-one would tell me-"

"Did you not stop to think there might be a reason for that?" Kingsley said.

"So you _didn't_ want me to find him?" Harry asked.

"I didn't want you involved," Kingsley said, ushering him into a lift, nodding at a witch who was getting out.

"You know what he's doing, right?" Harry asked as the doors clanged shut.

Kingsley hesitated, and then nodded. "Yes."

"How is that okay?" Harry asked, unable to help himself. He reached out to hold onto the rail as the lift shuddered and then jolted backwards. "He's in a state, he needs some help."

"Not from you," Kingsley said.

Harry looked at him indignantly. "What? Why?"

Kingsley gave him a pointed look. "You'll see."

The rest of the journey was conducted in silence. Harry very much wanted to open his mouth and ask Kingsley just what the hell he was on about, but kept his trap shut and contented himself with frowning, pushing his glasses up his nose and then crossing his arms across his chest. They left the lift and walked a short way down a bare, empty corridor, before stopping at the only door they could see.

"If I show you this, it goes no further," Kingsley said as he reached for the door handle which growled at him menacingly.

Harry's curiosity was immediately sparked, almost overriding his disgruntled feelings from earlier. "Sure," he said, immediately trying to work out what was behind the door.

Kingsley tapped the now hissing doorknob and it clicked open with a yelp, revealing a bustling interior, the low level noise from within a contrast to the quiet corridor. He stepped in and Harry followed, and immediately excitement surged through him.

The Hightops case.

The case everyone wanted to know about and be involved with, the case that had the Auror force tied up in knots, the case that Roberts refused to tell Harry _anything_ about.

"Whoa," he said, eyes trying to take in everything around him. Pictures adorned the walls, with pieces of parchment pinned up next to them, and different coloured threads spidering across the room like webs, connecting people and places and events. There were six desks in the centre of the room, buried under newspapers, files, reports and yet more photographs. Ten or eleven Aurors were there, looking harassed and tetchy; two of them were arguing vocally over something one had in his hand. They all looked up at Kingsley as he entered and nodded, and then went back to their work.

"I suppose you've been keeping up with the papers," Kingsley said, ducking under a purple string and moving over to the far side of the room.

"Yeah…" Harry said, eyes wide and taking in everything he could. "Seemingly untraceable organised crime involving millions of pounds worth of diamonds, missing wizards and several high profile Muggle murders," he said distractedly.

Kingsley chuckled grimly. "Did Roberts fill you in, by any chance?"

"Yeah…" Harry said, blinking and trying to focus. A sudden wave of foreboding sliced through him. "Hang on, what has this got to do with Malfoy?"

"Whoever is running this crime ring has got it organised down to the wire," Kingsley explained, not answering Harry's question straight away. "It works on six tiers. The boss is at the top, and his partners just below. We know who two of the partners are but we can't connect them to anything," Kingsley explained, and Harry noted the underlying frustration in his tone. "Below them are the sellers and buyers who organise the heists and then the resells, both the Muggle items and the Wizarding gems that have gone missing," he waved his hand to a corner of the room littered in pictures and connected by threads of green. "We've arrested a few but they keep being replaced and when we arrest them they've got no connection we know of to the rest of the ring."

"Who are those guys?" Harry asked, looking towards a bunch of photographs that had 'priority' labels affixed to them.

"Wandwork," Kingsley said. "We think he uses a few men for all the actually casting; the stealing and the hexing and the cursing and the Obliviating. Nasty pieces of work and nearly impossible to find. If we got hold of one of them who'd be willing to talk, we'd be making progress, because these guys could possibly tell us who they give the stolen property to."

"Right…" Harry said slowly, understanding. The situation was a mess, and it wasn't only the haphazard threads that span across the room that told him that. Delegation, distractions and different levels, all designed to keep the ringleaders well out of harm's way.

"And right down here, we have our bottom rung," Kingsley said, walking over to where one of the Aurors was looking at photographs all connected in blue. Harry noted most of them were women. "These are the distracters. Employed by the ring, and mostly involved with the Muggle thefts, as far as we can tell."

"Distracters?" Harry asked warily.

"In simplest terms, they distract the Muggles and let the Wandwork team come in and rob them blind," said the Auror, rubbing his face tiredly. "Or they go out with them and get seemingly harmless information from them, like where the target lives, where they like to have dinner, who they work with. Some of them even manage to convince them to give them or lend them jewellery, depending how good they are, and then disappear."

"Holy shit," Harry said faintly, barely hearing. His eyes were fixed on a photograph on the wall; an image of a very familiar very blond someone sitting beside a suited man in a restaurant. Harry watched as the photographic Draco smiled and turned his head, the stud in his ear catching the light and glinting briefly.

"Indeed," Kingsley said grimly. "Draco Malfoy. Hightops finest distracter. The only problem is we can't get the bastard to admit he's doing anything other than whoring."

"That's why he keeps just getting let go!" Harry exclaimed, as realisation hit him. "Dual nationality my arse - you lot are waiting for him to slip up!"

"He will," The Auror said, staring at the photo of Malfoy. "He's getting twitchy, we can tell."

"Christ," Harry said, shaking his head. "This isn't right."

"What?" The Auror turned to look at him and then frowned. "Why are you even here?"

"Potter ran into Malfoy on a pick up the other day," Kingsley interjected before Harry could snap back at the Auror. "They were in school together and he got concerned and wanted to know what had happened to Malfoy. It won't be happening again."

"Better not," said the Auror, looking relieved. "Can't have this fucking up now."

Harry opened his mouth indignantly but Kingsley grasped his upper arm and steered him away, giving him a meaningful look. "You see?" he said in an undertone.

"Yes, I _see_," Harry snapped as Kingsley let him go. "I'm just not entirely comfortable with Malfoy being left to the wolves just because he _might_ let something slip."

"It's for the greater good," Kingsley said. "People are dying for these crimes, more and more people."

"You know he's got a kid, right?" Harry demanded. For the first time, a hint of uneasiness flickered across Kingsley's face, but it quickly disappeared.

"Yes, but-"

"There shouldn't be a but!" Harry said heatedly. "There's a child being dragged through this mess-"

"Enough," Kingsley said mildly, but the tone brooked no argument. "Your judgment has always been clouded when dealing with Malfoy, and we can't let you get involved in this case."

"But you don't have anything on him – you're just using him as bait!"

"Harry, go home," Kingsley said firmly. "Calm down and think about this from everyone's point of view, not just yours."

"You're sending me home?" Harry asked incredulously.

"A day of leave," Kingsley said resolutely. "Now go."

Harry didn't wait to hear it again, he stormed to the door and wrenched it open, slamming it behind him and making the doorknob howl at him. He marched to the lift and stabbed at the button angrily, cursing Kingsley, Malfoy and the whole bloody Hightops ring under his breath. This wasn't right. It wasn't right to sell out another human being like this, just because the Aurors were too incompetent to do their job properly. Scorpius was just a kid, a kid who didn't deserve to see his Dad being arrested every week just because the Auror department were keeping him hanging out there like a piece of meat, trying to snare someone more important.

Malfoy _was_ important, in his own stupid way, for god's sake. Why didn't anyone else think that?

* * *

><p>Harry had been expecting Hermione to be at home when he staggered through the floo to her and Ron's house, needing someone to vent to. What he hadn't expected was Luna and Ginny to also be there, all sat around the table and looking at him in mild surprise.<p>

"Hey," he said, straightening up awkwardly. "Sorry, didn't know you'd all be here."

"It's fine," Hermione said, standing up to greet him and beaming at him. "What's up, why aren't you at work?"

Harry shifted awkwardly from foot to foot as Hermione hugged him, and she drew back, looking suspicious. "Harry?"

"I got sent home," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head and feeling very conscious that Ginny was there and looking at him carefully. Shit. He was bloody great at making up lies when he was put on the spot at work, but anything involving his friends or ex-wife and he was tongue tied.

"You what?" Hermione asked, baffled. "You got sent home?"

"I'm used to James being sent home, not you," Ginny quipped, an eyebrow raised.

"It wasn't my fault, not really," Harry tried as Hermione put her hands on his shoulders and steered him into a seat next to Ginny, pushing him into it with more force than was probably necessary. Baby Alice let out a happy gurgle and reached for him, and Harry sighed and took her off of Ginny's knee.

"Who sent you home?" Ginny asked, getting up and stretching, meandering over towards the fridge and calling back over her shoulder.

"Kingsley," Harry muttered.

All three women turned to look at him. Hermione looked shocked, Luna looked curious and Ginny was wearing her _Oh dear Merlin what have you managed to do now, _expression. Harry was very used to that expression and wasn't thrilled that it was making a comeback. "The Minister of Magic sent you home?" she asked, her hand frozen on the fridge door. "Why?"

"Because we had a slightly mild disagreement about something," Harry said evasively, bouncing Alice on his knee, catching one of her flailing fists in his fingers. "Not a big deal."

"I'd say it is a big deal if Kingsley sent you home and it's not even eleven," Hermione remarked.

"So, what did you have a mild disagreement about?" Ginny asked, pulling open the fridge and bringing out a pitcher of some cold drink, as Hermione reached into a cupboard and found glasses.

"Nothing," Harry said and immediately regretted it. Bollocks. He could have said that Kingsley was cross that Harry had gone out of out his district again, or how Harry and Ellis kept swapping jobs without telling anyone. He could have even said he'd gotten angry at the crap quality of the coffee in the department but no, he had to go and say '_nothing._' Jesus.

"I know what it is," Luna said, clicking her fingers. Harry stopped berating himself internally and looked up, just in time to hear her say with complete confidence, "Malfoy."

There was a pause.

"Malfoy?" Ginny asked, bewildered. "Why on Earth would it be about Malfoy?"

Harry tried to frantically catch Luna's eyes to get her to shut her mouth, but she either didn't see him or ignored him purposefully. He suspected the latter.

"Harry found him in a fountain," Luna told the others, who were staring at Harry like he'd grown an extra head. "He was drunk so they had to go fetch him before he broke the Statute of Secrecy. And Harry wanted to know why he had been in the fountain, so he went to find him. Did it go well?"

Harry stared back at her, wishing he could rewind the last twenty seconds of his life. Or at least edit Ginny out of it. "Erm…I suppose," he said weakly.

"You went to find Draco Malfoy?" Ginny asked in disbelief, settling the pitcher back on the table and walking over to take Alice back. "Why?"

Harry didn't reply. All three pairs of eyes were on him. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ anyone to know - he had been intending to talk to Hermione when he'd flooed over in a rush – but he wasn't sure how Ginny would react to his quest to save Malfoy's arse. She often had something to say about things he had done or intended to do – not because she was deliberately prying or being a pain, but seeing as Harry was the father of two out of her three children, he supposed that she had rights to check that he wasn't behaving like a complete twat.

"Harry?"

"Because he's in trouble," Harry finally said. "He's in with a bad crowd-"

"So help me, if you say you're going to rescue him I will hex you," Ginny said sharply.

"He has to," Luna chipped in before Harry could reply, or even organise a counter argument in his head. "He owes Malfoy because he owed Narcissa a life debt. And if he lets Malfoy die then Malfoy will never be able to pay back _his_ life debt, so the balance will be all wrong. I suspect he might even become a poltergeist, and that's not good for anyone."

"Malfoy's going to die?" Ginny asked, perplexed.

"You never know," Luna said solemnly.

"No!" Harry interjected, trying to get his mouth working. "He's not going to die, I don't think anyway. He's just in some trouble and I'm keeping an eye on him."

"You're being awfully vague," Hermione said suspiciously. "What sort of trouble?"

Harry opened his mouth and shut it again. He didn't want to tell them all what Malfoy was doing; it was a huge part of the problem but for some reason he felt like it would be betraying Malfoy to tell everyone and have him open for judgment without him even being present. It still made him feel awkward in a way, too, to think about Malfoy whoring himself out.

He hadn't yet worked up the courage to examine exactly why it bothered him so much.

"I know he's not been back in England long," Hermione said, her eyes fixed on Harry. "I thought he'd appear back in Wizarding circles but no-one's seen so much as a glimpse of him since he got back."

"Can you blame him?" Harry muttered. He reached out for a plate of biscuits that sat on the table but before he could reach for one the plate moved smartly out of his reach. He looked up with a scowl to see Hermione with her wand in hand.

"Biscuits after you explain what is going on," she said sternly. "This is serious."

"Are you sleeping with him?" Ginny asked bluntly.

"No!" Harry insisted as Hermione and Ginny exchanged a look. "I'm not! I've seen him twice – for Merlin's sake. Just because he's gay doesn't mean I'm going to ravage him the first chance I get-"

"He's gay?" Hermione asked.

"Of course," Luna said, idly summoning herself a biscuit. "I thought everyone knew that."

"_Christ_."

Harry leant forwards and folded his arms atop the table, burying his face in them. He dimly heard Ginny say, "You're twenty six, not eight, you know," and chose to ignore her. This conversation was well out of hand already and he'd barely managed to get a word in edgeways.

"Look, it's not a big deal," he finally said, sitting up. "I was just curious about where he'd ended up."

"It must be some sort of big deal if you're being sent home from work about it," Ginny said sharply. "Now cut the crap and tell me what's going on."

"It's none of your business," Harry replied, more sharply than he intended. "Back off, Gin."

"I don't think so," she said angrily. "Unfortunately, two of my children also belong to you, so if Malfoy is suddenly going to make an appearance in your life-"

"Unfortunately?" Harry interrupted. Luna was staring at him and Hermione was doing her best to pretend she wasn't listening. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Ginny took a deep breath, rubbing between her eyebrows with a finger, evidently trying to keep calm. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just thinking about the kids in all of this."

"Thinking what?" Harry asked, the challenge clear in his voice.

"That maybe Malfoy isn't the best person to involve in their lives!"

Harry scowled. "Jesus, it's not like I'm going to have him babysitting or anything," he snapped, getting up from the table and ignoring Hermione's protest. "I would never put anything above my own kids."

"I know that-"

"Then stop giving me a hard time," Harry said, his words for Ginny's benefit rather than the other's. He stalked over to the fireplace. "Tell Ron I stopped by, yeah?"

"Harry, wait-"

"Harry just sit down and talk about it," he heard Ginny say, sounding exasperated.

"Not a chance."

He knew it was childish and Ginny would be furious with him, but he didn't care. He felt drained; he knew that helping Malfoy was going to be an uphill struggle, but acknowledging the difficulty didn't make it any less tiring. He reached for the pot of floo powder, his back on the women around the table.

"Harry!"

"I'll see you later," he said abruptly, throwing a pinch of powder into the grate and stepping into the green flames as soon as possible. He turned and caught Ginny's put-out expression before he was whisked away in a swirl of flames and shimmering soot.

* * *

><p>Draco sat quietly on the edge of his low-slung bed, feet on the floor and knees nearly at his chin, eyes fixed on the sleeping figure that was curled up on the smaller bed against the opposite wall. There was barely two feet between the two beds – which were really little more than glorified mattresses anyway - but sometimes it still felt like Scorpius was too far away.<p>

Silently, he slid off of his bed to kneel on the floor bedside the other, absently reaching out to pick up the small stuffed toy that had evidently tumbled out from the covers at some point. He ran his fingers over the soft black and white material, smiling as he remembered the day he'd acquired it. Scorpius had seen it in the window of a Muggle shop and had fallen in love with the stupid stuffed animal, so Draco had simply nicked it without a second thought, shoving it inside his coat and quickly slipping away. He didn't feel guilty; it wasn't like it was worth much, and besides, Scorpius loved the damn thing.

He reached forwards and gently brushed a finger over Scorpius's brow. Predictably, Scorpius stirred. Draco knew it was selfish to wake him, but he wanted Scorpius to know he'd come home, just like he'd promised. He sifted his fingers through Scorpius's hair and Scorpius made a sleepy noise in his throat, stretching and shifting under his duvet before opening his eyes tiredly.

"Tu es revenu," he whispered, smiling.

"Course I did," Draco whispered back. "I always come back."

He reached up with the stuffed toy and made it nuzzle Scorpius's face with its nose. Scorpius reached out to take it, tucking the toy under his chin.

"Panda missed you," he whispered.

"Did he now?" Draco murmured, smiling as he reached up to pull the blanket over Scorpius's shoulder. "I missed you and panda."

"Do you have to go out again?"

Draco shook his head. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Scorpius smiled tiredly, his eyelids already fluttering closed again. Draco gently tucked his blankets around him and then pulled his hands away, not really wanting to but knowing that Scorpius would fall back to sleep more quickly if he didn't fuss. He watched Scorpius's small, peaceful face for a long while, ignoring the rumbling of his stomach and the ache in his limbs that desperately wanted a hot bath – a luxury that their small poky flat didn't provide.

A sharp wail from outside made him look away towards the window, waiting to see what would follow. There was a short rough bark and then a shout and then the noises drifted away, becoming quieter as whoever - or whatever – had made them moved further along the alley.

Draco swore softly, shaking his head. Life on Knockturn was bearable – despite the less than savoury nature of the place, it provided privacy and easy access out into Muggle London so he had never had to step foot on Diagon Alley. Through curiosity he'd once walked to the end of Knockturn and peered out onto Diagon, but he'd seen that Irish bloke from Potter's form – Finnigan, he thought he remembered - outside Quality Quidditch Supplies and had legged it, feeling panicked that he'd be recognised. No, it was far better that no-one from his old life know just how close he actually was.

He turned back to look at Scorpius's sleeping form once more, and without really thinking about it, slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the coin he'd taken to carrying everywhere with him. Only for Scorpius's sake, he'd told himself determinedly the first time he'd slipped it into his jeans. If anything happened to him, he could call Potter and Potter would go and rescue Scorpius and keep him safe.

He felt the familiar urge to get himself a drink rising in his chest; if he were drunk then he wouldn't be having these stupid analytical thoughts about everything. When he drank he found he could just blur away all the sharp edges of the world and not have to think about it all. He could just get on with it. He looked up from the coin over to the windowsill, on which stood a more than half-empty bottle, but after a moment of temptation he decided against it. He was shattered, and knew that tonight he could just simply fall asleep within moments, so it was probably best to save his dwindling supply of dodgy Knockturn booze for when really needed it.

Pushing thoughts of being drunk away, he instead focused on the galleon he was now turning over in his fingers. As he looked down at it, he wondered what would happen if he did call for Potter. Would Potter be mad that he'd interrupted his life when he wasn't actually in trouble? Or would Potter…Draco shook his head. He didn't actually know what Potter would do if he called him.

It both comforted and scared him, having Harry Potter apparently on side. His boss would definitely not take too kindly to Draco hanging around with a Ministry official, but then Potter was _Potter_ - one of the good guys.

Draco didn't even know if he wanted to see Potter again. He'd glumly come to terms with the fact he was an idiot for wanting Potter in that way, considering Potter was straight and all. Seeing him made it ten times worse, an ache in his chest that was as painful as it was pointless.

He eyed the galleon a moment longer, contemplating.

With a shake of his head, he shoved it back into his pocket. He got up from the floor and cast a last glance over Scorpius before making his way over to the cupboard that masqueraded as a bathroom, wanting nothing more than to have a wash and then fall asleep so he didn't have to think about his job, alcohol or Potter any more.


	7. Chapter 7

_**AN:** Thank you to eva667, gadgetgadget and multicolouredfloopowder for helping me beat this plot into shape. You should direct your thanks to them for making this make sense. Thank me for the typos. It is late here and my eyes are on proof-reading strike. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

"Well, you could have maybe told her in a less in-your-face way, mate. It wasn't exactly delivering the news gently."

Harry twisted around in his kitchen chair to scowl at Ron's back. He really was ruining their Saturday beer night with all this chatter about Ginny and how Harry was in her bad books, _again_. He sighed, longing for the good old days where they talked of Quidditch and beer and the kids and Harry's rubbish love-life. "I didn't tell her, Luna did."

Ron backed out of the fridge, a beer in each hand. He turned, grimacing, and kicked the fridge shut behind him. "Ouch. I bet that was painful."

"Excruciating," Harry muttered. "It was like a broom crash in slow motion."

"Like a lot of your life, really," Ron said cheerfully, passing Harry one of the bottles of beer and clicking his fingers to snap the caps off.

"Sod off," Harry said tiredly, running his thumb over the bumpy glass on the neck of the bottle.

"I'm not trying to piss you off," Ron said, pulling out a chair next to Harry and slipping into it. His expression was understanding and calm. "I'm just passing on the message from Ginny."

"What, that she's still pissed at me?" Harry asked with a sigh. "I could have guessed that."

"I'd say it's about a five on the Ginny-is-mad-scale," Ron said thoughtfully, looking like he was finding this altogether too amusing for Harry's liking. "Maybe a six."

"I'd hate to think what a ten is," Harry said, taking a swig of his beer, wishing that they could just skip talking about this and go straight to the usual argument over the merits of takeaway pizza versus takeaway Chinese food.

"I don't dare imagine it," Ron sniggered. "It'd be apocalyptic. I mean, the you coming out thing was probably a nine. Maybe nine and a half."

"So what is meriting a five this time around?" Harry asked heavily, choosing to ignore yet another joke about his catastrophic coming out. "I've not technically done anything wrong. Is it about being sent home from work d'you reckon?"

"'Mione reckons it's the Malfoy thing more than anything. The fact it's him."

"He's not that bad!" Harry said, exasperated. He wasn't going to be singing Malfoy's praises any time soon but Merlin, it wasn't like the git was been caught drowning crup-puppies in a pond or stealing ice-cream from underprivileged children or anything.

"Yeah, from _your_ point of view," Ron said, pointing his bottle at Harry. "It's different for you. You got to see all the crappy stuff happening to him first hand. You got to see him acting like a not-total arse when he didn't shop us in at the manor. You rescued him from that fire. We know all the crap that's happening to him now, so we're bound to be a bit more sympathetic. I think Gin's got a bit of a different view of him."

"A different view?" Harry asked with a frown, not entirely convinced but willing to hear Ron out. He took a mouthful of his beer, swinging back on his chair and thinking ruefully that he couldn't really tell James off for doing it if _he_ couldn't manage to keep a chair on all four legs for any prolonged period of time.

"Well yeah. We weren't there for seventh year were we?" Ron said. "I mean, the real one with the Carrows and all the insanity."

"As opposed to the fake seventh year?"

"Exactly," Ron said with a vigorous nod. "Hermione said…well, she said that Gin probably doesn't like Malfoy because of all that. Can't say I blame her."

Harry felt trepidation deep in his stomach. "Why, what did he do?"

"The usual. Getting preferential treatment. Keeping out of the way of the Crucio's. Aiming a few of his own," Ron said with a shrug, his tone a little evasive. "Ginny and Luna had an argument about it."

Harry let his chair fall back with a bang, pulling his beer away from his mouth. "Gin argued with Luna? Is Luna even capable of arguing?"

"Apparently so," Ron said with a laugh. "Well, you know that thing Luna does where she completely contradicts what you're saying and you've not got a clue if she's just rambling or arguing on purpose? Apparently she interrupted Gin mid-rant and told her that Malfoy wasn't actually a complete and utter bastard, but was – and I quote – 'a wrackspurt-ridden, insecure boy who isn't really that bad.'"

"Wow," Harry said fervently. "I know Luna's okay with him and what happened, but I didn't realise that went as far as going head to head with Gin about it."

"S'Luna," Ron shrugged, as if that explained it. In a way, it did. He paused, picking at the label of his own beer bottle and looking a little uncomfortable. "I heard that Malfoy cursed Neville once."

Harry felt a lead-weight settle in his stomach. Shit. If Malfoy really had cursed Neville, of course Ginny would be holding a grudge against him. Harry could still clearly remember the time she'd hexed Fred for feeding Neville yet another Canary Cream at a family meal, so goodness knew how she'd react to someone cursing him with anything that was actually dangerous. "Really?" Harry asked, not quite wanting to hear the answer. It wasn't often that he looked back on the year spend traipsing around the countryside in search of Horcruxes as time well spent, but there were moments that made him feel that it was a bit of a picnic compared to a year with the Carrows.

"Yeah, but no-one's really sure if it was a voluntary thing or not," Ron said with a small shrug of his shoulders. "Ginny says it was, but Seamus says Malfoy only did it because one of the Carrows had a wand pointed at him. And out of the two of them, Seamus hasn't got any reason to lie, but I don't know."

"Wow. You being neutral about something involving Malfoy," Harry said seriously.

Ron shrugged again. "I wasn't there, I don't know what happened. Anyway, what's the point in holding a grudge? Takes far too much energy to keep thinking about all that old stuff, 'specially when you end up with kids to think about."

"Then how come Ginny is still holding one?" Harry asked with a frown.

"Well, if you think about it, her first husband had his face smashed in by Draco Malfoy, her second husband has been crucio'd by Draco Malfoy, and her whole second year at school was ruined because of Lucius Malfoy."

"I'd blame it on Voldemort more than Malfoy," Harry said lightly.

"Yeah, but Lucius gave her that diary," Ron said, emphasising his point with a tilt of his bottle before taking a gulp.

"I suppose," Harry sighed. "Fair points really."

"I didn't figure it out until Hermione explained," Ron admitted with a grin. "Never could understand it. When she bought up the Malfoy breaking your nose thing, I brought up the thing about you accidentally cutting Malfoy in half. Seems she'd conveniently forgotten about that."

Harry winced and shot Ron a rueful look. "I'd like to conveniently forget about that too, if you wouldn't mind. Besides, I didn't cut him in half. Stop exaggerating."

Ron laughed. "What I want to know is why you didn't tell them Malfoy had a kid," he said, thankfully steering the conversation away from the Sectumsempra incident. Harry still didn't like talking about it, even after all this time. "They probably would have been more understanding about it. You know, maternal types and all. They'd care about the kid even if they didn't give a shit about Malfoy."

"I don't know," Harry said. He had thought about that the moment he'd stepped through his grate after escaping from Ginny's; why hadn't he mentioned Scorpius? "I didn't even think about mentioning him. I was kind of pissed off that they didn't want me to help Malfoy, and it would probably aggravate me if they then all wanted to help just because of the kid."

Ron's frown grew deeper and he eyed Harry warily. "So…it's not about the kid to you?"

"Well, yes, but no," Harry tried to explain. "It was about Draco before, and now Scorpius is just another reason to help."

Ron sighed. "_Scorpius._ Really? Didn't he learn when we all took the piss out of his name?"

Harry chuckled. "Apparently not."

"Is the kid like him?"

"Looks like him, yeah," Harry said, taking a swig of beer. "Blond and pointy. Pretty smart, too, I think."

"Really? Sounds like-"

Ron's words were cut short as a loud wailing noise cut through the air, high pitched and insistent. Harry jumped a mile, dropping his beer bottle which hit the tabletop with a thud, glugging Carlsberg all over the wood.

"Shit!"

"What the fuck is that?" Ron shouted as Harry hastily grabbed his beer and stood it upright. "Mate, it's coming from you!"

"I know!"

Panicking, Harry stood up and pulled the source of the noise out of his jeans pocket: a Galleon. More specifically, the partner to the Galleon that Malfoy had, charmed so that Draco could call Harry if he needed help-

"Bugger, bugger, bugger," he stepped back and nearly tripped over his chair. Staggering, he grabbed the back of it and moved around, staring at the coin in his hand.

"What? What's going on?"

"Malfoy," Harry said breathlessly. He shook his wand out of his sleeve and tapped the Galleon to stop the wailing alarm. "He's got the other one. I told him to use it if he needed me. Shit, I wasn't expecting that so soon."

"You going to find him?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I have to," he looked up at Ron, torn. "Ron, I'm sorry, I said I would-"

"I know, just go," Ron said, standing up and stretching, picking up his beer after a moments reflection. "Make sure he's okay."

Harry nodded fervently. "Thank you. I owe you one."

Ron waved him away. "No mushy guy stuff. Save it for the ferret."

"Arsehole."

"Wanker."

Harry smiled weakly at Ron who grinned and shot him a thumbs up. They paused for a moment and then Harry decided that Ron was probably right; now wasn't the time for any male-bonding experiences or mushy crap. So instead, he gave Ron a nod that he hoped conveyed how thankful he was for his support and understanding, and then turned on the spot to disappear with a crack, the Galleon clutched tightly in his fist.

* * *

><p>Harry appeared with a crack and stumbled, disorientated. Where the fuck was he? He looked around wildly to see nothing but greenery and leaves and his bewilderment grew. Was he in the middle of a forest?<p>

He paused as he heard a shout and the sound of laughter. Maybe not the middle of the forest, then. He hesitantly stepped forwards, his heart hammering and his stomach still queasy from apparating. He stepped around a large tree and frowned as the greenery started to thin, leaving a wide open grassy space visible through the leaves.

Hang on, he was in a park. What the fuck? He clambered his way out of the woodland that bordered the open grassy space in the centre and then winced, belatedly realising he'd look like a right nutter if anyone saw him randomly emerging from the trees.

A labrador ran past him, followed by a man on a bicycle but he barely paid them any attention. His mental faculties were currently trying to work out why the tracking charm on the Galleon had dumped him in a park, of all places. He'd expected to turn up outside a police station or at a hotel or something. Oh Jesus, Malfoy wouldn't be conducting business in a park, would he? Harry didn't know the in's and out's of prostitution as a bloody career-

His internal tirade stopped as he turned on the spot, trying to get his bearings. He froze, his eyes fixed on the large grey building that was visible across the road that ran along the opposite side of the park.

A hospital.

Oh, bloody hell.

* * *

><p>Harry skidded into the reception in the accident and emergency department, startling the woman behind the desk as he grabbed hold of the counter to keep himself upright.<p>

"Sorry," he panted, rubbing his side where a stitch had formed, knifing his ribs without concern. "Sorry."

"Calm down," the woman said. "What's the problem?"

"Looking for a friend," Harry managed to get out, trying to stand up straight. "Malfoy."

"Alright, yes," the woman said, tapping her keyboard and looking at her computer screen. "If you take a seat someone will fetch you in a moment."

"What? I have to wait?" Harry blurted out, relief that he was in the right place not quite breaking through the panic. He wished his heart wound stop thudding quite so painfully against his sternum.

"We can't let you in until we know that he wants you here," she said carefully and Harry mentally kicked himself. He knew that. Of course he wouldn't be able to dash straight in without Malfoy verifying he was meant to be there. Especially if Malfoy had been attacked again; they might not let anyone in, if that was the case.

"Okay. I'll wait," he said, twisting and looking behind him at the blue plastic chairs lining the waiting area. "Just here."

"Okay. Can I just take your name?"

"Harry Potter," he said and she nodded, efficiently tapping more keys.

"Okay, just take a seat."

"Just tell him I'm here," Harry blurted before he could help himself. She blinked at him and he felt an awkward flush work its way up his neck. "If you could," he amended. "Just so he knows I came."

She nodded once and Harry abruptly turned away, dropping into the nearest blue chair that was unoccupied. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, slouching down low out of habit, and trying to dispel the twisting nervousness that was tying his stomach in knots.

He shouldn't have run from the park, he thought, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. His T-shirt was sticking slightly to his back, made worse by the cheap plasticity of the seats. The whole place smelt like antiseptic, and every time the double doors to the right swung open his heart leapt, only to be disappointed as the person coming through went to talk to someone that wasn't him.

He wondered if Scorpius was here. He'd given it a lot of thought lately, wondering how Draco managed to take care of Scorpius whilst he went out working. It made him feel strange: angry, upset and somehow helpless all at the same time. Did Scorpius know what his father did? Where was the kid's mother? Did he get left home by himself?

Harry imagined leaving Al home by himself and shivered. With a plethora of friends and family between him and Ginny, that scenario had never been an issue, or even anticipated. But Malfoy didn't have anyone. Parents dead, and as far as Harry knew, he had no friends.

He racked his brain and tried to think of anyone that Malfoy would be friends with. Crabbe, obviously, had died. Goyle was a recluse, away in Europe somewhere. Pansy Parkinson and Theo Nott had fled together a few days after the end of the war. Blaise Zabini was still kicking about somewhere, but he wasn't exactly what anyone could call a _friend. _A gold-hungry schemer was more like it from what Harry had heard-

"Mister Potter?"

Harry jerked in his seat, sitting up straight and banging his elbow on the edge of the chair. A harried looking nurse was stood half in and half out of the doorway, clipboard in hand.

"Yes?" he asked, rubbing his elbow and climbing awkwardly to his feet.

"If you'd like to follow me," the nurse said, and stepped back through the door without waiting for a reply. Harry hastened to follow, very aware of the squeaking of his trainers on the floor.

Harry had to move quickly to keep up with her brisk pace, dodging doctors and nurses and patients as they wound their way through the A and E department. Two sharp turns around corners and through a set of double doors and then she paused outside a drawn curtain.

"In here," she said and Harry nodded gratefully.

"Thanks."

He slipped through the curtain and then stopped in shock, his mouth hanging open. No wonder Draco had ended up in the bloody hospital rather than a police station. "What the fuck happened to you?"

"Never mind what the fuck happened to me," Draco snapped, glaring at Harry through the one eye that would open. "Potter, they've got Scorpius-"

"What?" Harry asked, alarmed. "Where is he?"

"I don't know, they took him and said they'd put him with some crèche or something," Draco said, agitated. "Help me find him - ouch, fuck."

"Whoa, sit still," Harry stepped forwards, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"No," Draco insisted, still trying to sit up, wincing and breathing heavily. Harry was so close that he could smell whiskey on Draco's breath, and as Draco swayed slightly and blinked rapidly, Harry realised that he was once again smashed.

"Malfoy, I'll find him, just bloody sit still!" Harry said, exasperated. "Don't make me hex you."

"Don't you- don't you dare," Draco said, though he stopped struggling against Harry's gently restraining hand. He was shaking, whether from shock, pain or fear Harry didn't know. "Potter-" he said, panic lacing his features. "Please get us out of here, I don't even care that it's you, just please find him and bring him back."

Harry didn't miss the 'please,' or fail to acknowledge just how hard it may have been for Draco to ask for help. But regardless of Draco's improved manners, he didn't think moving Draco would be the best idea.

"You're not fit to go anywhere," he said bluntly. "Look at the state of you."

Draco obviously didn't care about the state he was in, swollen eye and bruised cheekbone notwithstanding. Harry didn't dare imagine what injuries the rest of his body might have incurred, if his face was any standard to go by. There was blood in his hair on one side of his head, just next to his ear, and Harry's stomach lurched as he realised that one of Draco's earrings had almost been ripped out.

"I am not staying here," Draco said, his voice rising in pitch and wavering slightly. "I will get in more trouble with the Muggles, I bet they've already got those service socials in, and I swear to Hecate if I don't see Scorpius in the next five minutes I'm going to kill someone-"

"Alright, alright," Harry said, interrupting Draco mid-rant. "Calm down. I'll go and find him, as long as you stay put."

"Promise?" Draco asked, hiccupping slightly.

"Yes," Harry said firmly. "Now just sit down and breathe, you smell like a brewery."

"Sod off, Potter," Draco slumped back against the pillow of the hospital bed, his head turned sideways, breathing heavily through his nose. Christ. He probably didn't even know how badly he was hurt if he was that drunk, especially if whiskey had once again been his weapon of choice. Harry waited a moment to check he was settled and felt a hefty stab of anger in his gut as he took in Draco's face. He wasn't sure who he was angrier at; whoever had given Draco the beating, or Draco for getting himself into this mess again.

Scorpius wasn't hard to track down, despite Draco's fears. A few polite questions and one discreet Confundus and Harry was peering through the door of the crèche, eyes on Scorpius's bright blond hair. He was sat on a small red chair at the far end of the room, hands in his lap and looking unmistakably worried. As Harry watched Scorpius watch the other children playing, something clenched around his heart. It was just so sad, seeing that tiny little replica of Draco in that brightly coloured room, sad and scared and not interested in any of the toys around him.

He opened the door quietly and stepped inside. Scorpius's head instantly snapped around to the door, just as Harry's had done when he had been waiting in reception. Scorpius's eyes widened in recognition, and he didn't hesitate before leaping off his chair and running over to Harry.

"Harry! Où est papa? Il est blessè et je sais pas où il est-"

"Whoa, calm down," Harry said, dropping to crouch down so he could speak to Scorpius properly and keep him calm. "I don't speak French, remember?"

"Papa's hurt," Scorpius said, and Harry saw his chin wobble and his jaw clench. God, but the kid was brave. Harry didn't think James and Al would be quite so calm and reserved if Harry had been hurt. In fact, he'd be willing to bet that at least one of them would cry, possibly accompanied by howling and kicking. But then again, they had never been put in the position of having to deal with their father being hurt. Not like this.

"I know," Harry said quietly. "He's okay."

"He's a big scaredy cat," Scorpius said. "He won't like to be by himself."

Harry couldn't help but smile weakly. "You're not a scaredy cat, then?"

Scorpius shook his head. "Can we go home?"

"We'll see," he said, knowing that he couldn't promise Scorpius anything, no matter how badly he wanted to. "Let's go and find your Dad. He's worried about you."

"He worries a lot," Scorpius said as Harry stood up. He was startled to feel small fingers wrap around his, and looked down to see Scorpius staring towards the door, holding tightly onto Harry's hand.

"It's what dads do," Harry said, walking towards the door with Scorpius still holding his hand. "I worry, too."

"Do you have children?" Scorpius asked, looking up at Harry with wide grey eyes.

"Two little boys. One the same age as you," Harry told him and Scorpius nodded.

"I'm glad you've come," he said, his expression earnest. "Come to rescue papa like you did at the commissariat…police station."

Harry's mouth twitched in a smile, wondering how Draco would react to hearing Harry's intervention described as a 'rescue'. Probably not well, if his pride still dictated his reactions and emotions. He led the way back towards Draco's cubicle, every so often looking down on Scorpius who was constantly looking around, biting the ends of his fingers on his free hand.

"He's in here," Harry said to Scorpius, then paused, holding securely onto Scorpius's hand so he didn't run in straight away. "You know he's hurt his face, right?"

"Yes, I saw his eye is all closed," Scorpius said, pointing at one of his own eyes. Harry was torn between relief and sadness; it was upsetting that Scorpius had seen Draco in such a state, but at the same time he was glad that he wouldn't have to be the one to explain Draco's injuries.

"Okay then, you know-"

Harry paused as he heard a raised voice coming from inside the cubicle, instantly on alert.

"You cannot be serious? Questioning me about- for this? It was just a random beating, some jumped up idiots having a laugh, same as always-"

"And you expect us to believe that this is yet another random beating? According to the computer you've been very unlucky as far as random targets go."

"You can't keep me here! You can't! I've got to get back to the Alley and I swear if I get in trouble because of you lot-!"

The moment Draco started shouting was the moment Harry stooped to heave Scorpius up into his arms, before yanking the curtain aside and stepping into the cubicle. Concern aside, if Draco was plastered there was the chance that he would start mouthing off about the Wizarding World. One too many hits of trigger words and Harry would have to explain to his colleagues who would appear from the Obliviation Centre just why and how he'd ended up at Draco's side as he once again trounced his way through the Statute of Secrecy.

Beside Draco's bed was a tall Asian man, wearing plain clothes and a frown. Harry didn't know if he was a doctor or not; he had a name badge with the hospital insignia on a cord around his neck, but had neither a stethoscope nor clipboard. His black trousers and navy blue shirt gave away nothing, and Harry was immediately cautious, wary of the situation he didn't yet fully understand.

"Sir, if you'd mind waiting." The man who was questioning Draco looked most put out at Harry's appearance, and stepped over to reach for the curtain to block Harry out. However, before he could whisk the flimsy material back into place, Scorpius called out, making Draco jerk his head up.

"Papa!"

Draco instantly moved, his eyes on Scorpius. He tried to sit up but a hand on his shoulder stopped him; however, this hand was not meant to be reassuring as Harry's had been, it was a move designed to keep Draco exactly where he was in the hospital bed.

"You cannot leave until the police and social services have spoken to you," the man said firmly. "Not to mention being treated, you probably need at least two X-rays."

"Get the fuck off me," Draco spat, pushing at the hand and trying to climb out of the bed, grabbing for the metal railings and missing, lurching sideways and hitting his elbow on the bars. "You can't keep me here. Potter's here to take me home, now get out of the way."

Harry's heart skipped a beat; he'd obviously seen Draco under the influence of alcohol before, but he'd never seen Draco as an aggressive drunk until now. He wasn't sure he liked it; angry Draco had never been a pleasant person when he was sixteen and sober, let alone when he was twenty-seven and three sheets to the wind.

"It's for your own good," the man tried.

"This isn't Holby City, you can't keep him here on some jumped up notion or guess," Harry stepped in, shifting Scorpius on his hip as he reached out for Draco, tilting dangerously in Harry's grip. "He's done nothing."

"His past record-"

"Has nothing to do with this!" Draco snapped, waving a hand around to emphasise his point. "Get the fuck out of my way before I fucking hex you-"

The man stepped back and turned, his hand moving towards a large red button which was mounted on the wall near the cubicle curtain. Harry had no idea what that button did, but his instincts told him it wasn't going to be anything good. As such, his wand was out of his pocket and pointed at the man before he could touch it.

"Obliviate!"

"Fuck!"

The man slumped against the wall, his balance thrown off by the memory charm. His head dipped, his chin nearly touching his chest as he threw his arms out, trying to regain equilibrium.

"Potter, you fucking idiot!"

"Thank me later then," Harry snapped back at Draco. Without thinking about anything beyond getting the fuck of there, he strode over to where Draco was trying to climb out of the hospital bed and grabbed his wrist. Draco yelped in pain and shock but Harry ignored him and yanked Draco up as close to him and Scorpius as he could manage. He heard Scorpius's squeal and saw Draco's face impossibly close to his, a fraction of a second before they Apparated away with a crack.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Draco opened his eyes a fraction and then immediately shut them, cursing. Daylight was streaming in through the parted curtains of an open window, stabbing his retinas and making the whiskey still in his bloodstream promptly throw a mutiny against his brain.

He rolled over slowly and cursed again. His whole body hurt, never mind his head. This wasn't an average hangover, he was sure of it. He was prepared to roll back over and bury himself under his duvet until Scorpius came to wake him up, but something slowly dawned on him.

This wasn't his bed. It didn't smell like his bed, didn't feel like his bed. A wave of panic ran through him; what if he'd fallen asleep somewhere with a punter and left Scorpius waiting for him at home? Ignoring his pounding headache and protesting limbs, he pushed himself out of the bed, squinting in the bright sunlight. He brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the light and peered around, noting first of all that he was alone. Whether that was reassuring or not, he didn't know.

The room was nice. Decorated in creams with green curtains and bedding, but that didn't help Draco work out where exactly he was. As he looked over at the bookshelf that stood on the other side of his room and the coat that was hung on the back of the door, he started to think that he wasn't in a hotel, but in someone's _house_.

His ear throbbed with a dull unrelenting pain, and as he carefully reached up to check both his earrings were still in place he cringed, feeling dried blood under his fingertips. He shivered, running his hands over his bare shoulders. He was still wearing his black jeans but his shirt was apparently missing in action. He swallowed thickly and tried to piece together the last twenty four hours of his life, wincing as a stabbing pain spiked across his cheekbone.

He remembered being out in a small café with Scorpius, laughing as Scorpius insisted on trying a piece of Draco's fish pie, promptly looking disgusted at the taste. He'd asked the waitress to keep an eye on Scorpius and nipped to the bathroom, and then remembered a crack, and then a hand grabbing the back of his hair.

He'd been dragged away, kicking and screaming, told that he was going on a job. He didn't remember the particulars, but he remembered being locked in a Muggle hotel room and told to wait. He'd screamed himself hoarse, crying and howling, but no-one had come.

The mini-bar had been his second port of call after he realised that the room had probably been silenced. Sheer panic had made him near hysterical, and he had tried to calm his nerves with a drink. Too quickly had that plan gotten out of hand; as the minutes passed the empty bottles grew in number.

He felt sick, remembering. He remembered thinking he was never going to see Scorpius again. Wanting to die if he never got to hold Scorpius again.

Gingerly, he ran a finger across his eye socket. A memory came back in a flash.

A hand gripping his chin, turning his face upwards. He was dizzy, sick with whiskey, and the light was too bright_. 'He's no bloody good for anything. And you promised me the finest you had.'_

And then pain. Swift punches and kicks, and threatening voices. And then Scorpius's small hysterical voice, and dizzying relief despite the taste of blood in his mouth. A cry, shocked voices, Muggles saying to call a number full of nines.

He shuddered and shook his head. He knew he'd been told to stay in the flat, but Scorpius had been bored and hungry, so he'd risked it.

This was getting dangerous. God, he was so stupid. So stupid to think that he had any control over his own life anymore, no matter what he tried to tell himself. It was slipping out of his grasp, further and further every day, every damn day he did something else wrong.

Fuck finding his shirt. He needed to find Scorpius and get home, now. He stepped on trembling legs towards the door but someone beat him to it. As his fingers curled towards the door handle, it flew open, making him jump backwards in shock.

"I was coming to wake you up," Harry Potter said, hovering in the doorway. Draco's legs gave up and he collapsed back onto the bed.

Harry Potter. He had woken up to find himself less than five feet away from Harry Potter. What on earth had gone on in the past few days for him to end up in this situation? More memory burst behind his eyes. The hospital. That damn Galleon that he should have left at home. Potter turning up with Scorpius on his hip, and the overwhelming relief that he'd felt at seeing the two of them safely together.

"Am I in your house?" he managed to ask faintly, his throat feeling tight and sore. If he didn't know better he would have assumed that whoever the boss had dragged him to had given his mouth a good once-over.

Harry nodded.

"Where's Scorpius?" Draco demanded fiercely, staggering back to his feet. He somehow knew that Harry would have made efforts to keep Scorpius safe and happy, but that didn't stop him wanting him back in his arms. His small weight was a comfort that Draco couldn't get from anything else, no matter what he tried.

"Downstairs, he's fine," Harry said, and his calm tone and relaxed countenance made Draco want to punch him.

"It is not fine, why are we here?" he asked. "And where the fuck is my shirt?"

Harry ignored the second question. "You triggered the alarm. I came and got you."

Draco gaped at him. "I know that much, you dolt. Why did you bring us to your house? Are you mad?"

Harry's posture immediately turned defensive. He folded his arms across his chest and straightened up, looking a lot bigger than he actually was. "You were drunk. You were talking rubbish, and they were about a minute away from calling security and social services. Not to mention that the Ministry would have dropped in if you'd let much more slip. So don't get shitty with me."

"But why didn't you take me home?" Draco asked, tugging at his hair and then wincing. "Or to a hotel-"

"I didn't have much time to think about it, alright?" Harry snapped.

Anger, fuelled by shame and embarrassment, flared through Draco's veins. "You should have fucking kept out of it then," he snapped, pushing past Harry and through the doorway.

"Will you make up your bloody mind?" Harry said, exasperated. Draco looked left and right and headed towards the banisters which he assumed were attached to a staircase. "One minute you want me to help, the next minute you don't-"

"I don't," Draco snarled, going down the stairs as quickly as his aching legs would allow. He was favouring his left leg, making his process ungainly and awkward. But hell, Potter knew he was a whore and a terrible father, so walking like a twat was the least of his worries.

"Then why did you call me?" Harry challenged, following Draco easily, stepping down the stairs beside him with ease.

"Fuck off. Where's Scorpius?"

"You can't just leave," Harry said, reaching out a placing a steadying hand on Draco's shoulder as he staggered slightly on the last step.

"Get off."

He didn't want Potter to help him; what had he been thinking when he'd called Potter for help? He really should have thrown that damn Galleon away because now here he was, owing Potter again, only safe because of Potter's fucking mercy.

"Draco-"

"Don't call me that," he said irritably, the name sounding foreign to his ears. He was 'papa' at home, 'boy' to the elderly witch who lived opposite his flat in the tatty building on Knockturn, and Malfoy when he was working. And a whole bunch of other less than savoury names that got tossed his way when on the job. "Where's Scorpius?"

"I think you should both stay," Harry said firmly, ignoring the question. "He seems happy to be here."

"He fucking well is not," Draco snapped, limping through the doorway at the bottom of the stairs. He paused and heard voices and followed the sounds through to the kitchen of Potter's house.

"Draco, just calm down and hear me out for a minute. Scorpius seems perfectly happy to stay-"

"Shove off, Potter. Go and rescue someone else."

The voices were clearly audible now, and his heart clenched painfully as he recognised the quieter of the two as Scorpius's. If he could just see him, he knew he'd instantly calm down and maybe he'd be marginally less horrid to Potter-

He froze in the doorway to Potter's kitchen, his body tensing up.

"I told you," Harry said quietly.

"Shut up, Potter," he said thickly.

Scorpius was sat at the huge kitchen table that was the centrepiece of the room, kneeling on a stool and leaning across the tabletop on his elbows. A pot of felt pens lay tipped and scattered across the table, some even strewn across the floor. Scorpius was scribbling happily on a sheet of paper with a bright blue pen, and chattering nineteen to the dozen to the small black haired boy who was laid on the table on his stomach, doodling on his own sheet of paper and listening to Scorpius with wide eyes.

As he watched, Scorpius put the lid back on his felt pen and looked to the other boy, who looked so much like Potter that it made Draco's head spin. He said something which Draco caught as French, and then laughed and repeated his request for a yellow felt pen in English.

The other little boy beamed and held out the pen to Scorpius, who took it with a '_Merci,_' and a smile just as wide.

For the first time since Draco couldn't remember, Scorpius looked like a regular four year old. A regular four year old who actually had a friend other than his father and the elderly witch who babysat him.

His throat tightened alarmingly and he felt his eyes burn.

"You can both stay as long as you need," Harry murmured behind him.

Draco didn't move. "Fuck you, Potter."

He had to leave the kitchen doorway. He pushed back past Potter and tried to move back the way he came, intending to go back to the room he'd woken up in and cry. Or break some of Potter's ornaments.

God, his life was a mess.

"Wait."

A calm voice and two gentle hands on his shoulders stopped him. He tried to twist away but they held firm, and besides, he was in no fit state to be fighting with anyone. His body hurt.

"I know this must be hard-"

Draco tensed. "You don't know anything, Potter." He ducked out from under Potter's hands, but still didn't turn to face him. "Fuck, I am going to be in so much trouble."

"Only if they find you," Harry said quietly.

Draco did turn to face him then, desperate and angry. "So what do you suggest I do? Hide here for the rest of my miserable life? Wait until you get fed up of us and turf us out?"

"I'm suggesting that you stay here for a few days and think things over," Harry said quietly. "Scorpius, too. Then after you've decided what you want to do, I'll help you. If you need to stay here for long term, then that's fine, too. I brought you here, so it's only fair that I follow through and help you, whatever it takes."

"You arrogant, sanctimonious-"

Draco's rising temper and volume was cut short before he could tell Potter exactly what he thought of his oh-so-wonderful plan.

"Papa! You're awake!"

Scorpius barrelled out of the kitchen and into the hallway, jumping at Draco and hugging him tightly around his middle. Draco winced and reached out to steady himself, and then scowled as Potter reached out too.

"Mind, Scorpius, he's still a bit bruised."

"Shut up," Draco hissed and Harry sighed, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Dad! Can Scorpius come to barbeque tomorrow? It's Sunday barbeque, right? James said so and him and Teddy never play fair-"

Al skipped into hallway and then stopped dead, catching sight of Draco. He immediately dodged behind Harry's legs, looking shy.

"C'est mon père," Scorpius said eagerly to Al. "Je te l'avais dit."

"Dad, teach me to understand French?" Al said, looking up at Harry with a beseeching expression in place.

"Maybe," Harry said and Al pulled a disgruntled face, tugging at Harry's shirt.

"Up."

Draco watched as Harry automatically obliged and picked Al up, swinging him up onto his hip. "Can he come to the barbeque?" Al asked again, curling his fingers around the neck of Harry's T-shirt. "He's magic and everything, he told me so."

Harry looked helplessly from Draco to Al and down to Scorpius. "I don't know, Al. I might not be able to make it tomorrow, we'll have to see."

"Da-ad," Al whined, leaning back and making Harry stagger a little before he pushed Al back upright with a gentle hand on his back. "You have to come. James'll be cross."

"James?" Draco asked before he could help himself. He was fascinated with looking from Al to Harry, seeing how alike they were. The only thing missing was the glasses and the scar.

"My eldest," Harry said.

"He lives with Mum," Al chipped in. "He's a bum."

Scorpius laughed but Harry didn't. He frowned at Al and immediately set him back on the floor. "Enough of that. Stop showing off and go and pick up your felt pens."

Al didn't argue. He scowled but obediently turned around and went back towards the kitchen.

Draco felt Scorpius tug at his hand. "Je peux aller t'aider ?"

"Oui."

Scorpius nodded and ran after Al, calling out excitedly. Draco heard a happy shout in response.

"It's not so much a punishment if he gets help," Harry said pointedly.

"I didn't want him here for when I murdered you," Draco responded acerbically. "By the way, I need my wand for that. Where is it?"

Harry shifted from foot to foot and Draco's frown narrowed from angry to dangerous. "Potter. My wand."

"You can have it back when you're less angry."

"Potter-"

"No," Harry said firmly, and Draco wanted to throttle him. "I'm not having you hexing me or blowing up my stuff whilst there's kids in the house."

"Fuck you," Draco snarled, his fists clenching by his sides. "You can't keep me prisoner."

"You're staying here because it's safe," Harry responded levelly, although Draco could see his mounting anger in the set of his shoulders and the tightening of his jaw. "The least you can do extend us the same courtesy by not cursing me when there are children in the house."

"Why not just trust that I won't?" Draco asked.

Harry gave him a small weak smile, the corner of his mouth lifting in time with his helpless shrug. "Don't trust you yet."

"The feeling's mutual," Draco said bitterly, and raised a hand to rub at his temple, blinking hard. He was exhausted.

"It seems bad now," Harry suddenly said, stepping forwards, his eyes sincere. There was so much hope for Draco-didn't-know-what in his expression that it made Draco's throat go tight. "But it'll get better."

Draco folded his arms across his bare chest. "After eight years of shit, I'm finding that hard to believe."

Harry reached out and put his hand on Draco's shoulder, his fingers gentle on his skin. Draco pushed it away, knowing what Harry would be thinking, recognising and hating the pity he knew Harry felt for him.

"Don't touch me," he said, turning away. "You know whores, Potter. You have to pay for that."

He stalked away without another word. Potter let him go.

* * *

><p>Draco stumbled almost blindly into the room he'd spent the night in. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hide away from the rest of the world until they'd all forgotten about him.<p>

But Scorpius was here and he was happy and he was safe. Potter would see that he was well fed and never alone and never in danger.

All things Draco couldn't manage to do himself. He was pathetic. No home, no money, no qualifications. He didn't even have a wand.

He turned his eyes to the room he was in and stepped towards the door on the far wall. He stepped towards it and nearly cried in relief as he saw the small bathroom, complete with shower and clean fluffy white towels. His stomach clenched as he saw two toothbrushes sat by the edge of the sink, still in their packaging, obviously courtesy of Potter.

He stepped forwards and reached for the door of the small medicine cabinet on the wall, and felt like crying in relief as he opened it. Amongst the regular tubes of toothpaste and headache tablets were small bottles he recognised instantly; pain potions and hangover remedies. He picked up one of each and pulled the caps off, necking one of each and trying not to wonder if Potter had put them there specially for him.

He drew in a shuddering breath as he felt the pain in his body dull into a soft ache, tingling slightly as the effect spread. Definitely pain-potion then, he thought as he welcomed the familiar effects. He knew that it was stupid to take potions from someone else's home, even if you recognised the bottle, but this was Potter. He was too noble to poison anyone.

Draco stiffened as an unbidden memory of one of Potter's less than noble moments flashed through his mind. His chest twinged as if in reply and he automatically pressed his palm to his sternum, breathing deeply until the unpleasant sensation went away. He was never sure if it were remnants of dark magic or his imagination that made it stir every so often, and couldn't decide which he'd rather it be. Oh well, he thought as he lowered his hand. It had been a long time ago, and by now he'd accepted Snape's curt explanation that Potter had had no idea what that spell did, which made him stupid, but not an attempted-murderer.

The explanation hadn't helped much at the time. Even though the scar had all but gone within a day, he'd hated Potter for it. Hated that Potter cared so little about him that he'd curse him without knowing or even contemplating the damage he could cause.

"Your own fault for trying to Crucio him," Draco muttered to himself, reaching up and shutting the door to the cupboard with a snap, pushing away the maudlin thoughts from the past.

Without even bothering to go back and lock the door to his temporary bedroom, he reached out and slowly slid the glass door of the shower to the side, reaching out to turn the water on.

It came on instantly with a hiss and a splash. Turning away from the shower for a moment, he flipped the button of his trousers open and wriggled out of them, wincing as the bruising on his legs and ribs protested. As he straightened up, he caught sight of himself in the small circular shaving mirror above the sink, mounted on an extendable criss-cross hinge. He swallowed thickly and quickly looked away, before reaching out to push the mirror away.

With the water as hot as he could stand it, he climbed into the shower, sliding the door back. The small space soon filled up with steam, obscuring his vision and fogging the glass.

He didn't know what to do. The exhilarating relief he had felt as he'd seen the Dark Lord fall down dead at Potter's hand nine long years ago had been short lived. He'd had a wild moment of thinking that he was free, that everything would be alright.

How wrong he had been. He'd been shunned, scorned and blamed. He'd fled, and made one bad choice after another. The only light along the way had been Scorpius, and it was his presence that had Draco waking up every day, determined to carry on and not give in.

He felt his legs wobble and his throat tighten alarmingly. He slowly slid down the tiled wall behind him, until he was sat in the bottom of the shower with his knees drawn up to his chest and the water beating down on his head. His shoulders shook.

What was the point now? Potter was probably already doing a better job of looking after Scorpius than Draco had managed in four years. It'd probably be better for Scorpius if Draco wasn't here to continually fuck it up.

Shakily, he raised a hand to wipe his eyes, blinking hard as the water continued to spray down on him. He shut his eyes and pulled his knees up his chest, resting his face on them. He held on tightly, his fingers wrapped around his ankles, and for the first time in months he let himself cry.

* * *

><p>Harry sat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers listlessly against the tabletop. In front of him was his empty dinner plate, and next to that was the picture Scorpius had drawn earlier. The drawing featured two very dubiously proportioned stick men, one twice the height of the other. Both were topped with a yellow scribble of hair. Their feet were hovering above a green scrawl at the bottom of the page and a there was a corresponding strip of blue at the very top of the page. Next to the taller stick-man Scorpius had written 'Papa' and on the other side he'd written 'Scorpius', complete with backwards S's.<p>

The thing that was making Harry's heart ache was the grey circle drawn around one of the larger stick-man's eyes. He wondered how many black eyes Draco had ended up with over the past four years for Scorpius to include it on his picture.

There was a crackle and a pop, and he twisted around on his chair to see Ron's face in the fire.

"Any reason you've blocked the upstairs floo port, mate? Still hiding from Ginny?"

Harry sighed. "I forgot you could get through this one."

"Well, I was a bit concerned that you'd locked the normal one without telling us why beforehand. Is Al trying to escape?"

"Come through and I'll tell you."

There was another pop and Ron's face disappeared, and then he stepped through the fireplace, stumbling a little on the brick edge.

"This thing's a death trap," he complained, brushing soot off his shoulders. "At least if you fall through the upstairs one you land on carpet."

"I had to lock it," Harry said. "Malfoy's here."

Ron froze, and Harry would have laughed at his completely shocked expression if he wasn't so tired.

"He's here?"

"Yep," Harry said heavily. "And so is the kid. Stupid idea, I know, but I can't do anything about it now."

"Does Ginny know?" Ron asked, sliding onto the chair next to Harry's then frowning and pulling the picture over to him to look at. "The black eye's a bit disturbing. Did you add that?"

"No, Scorpius did it," Harry said. "Al is very taken with him."

"Where are they?"

"The kids are in Al's room. Apparently Scorpius has never had Lego. Come on, I'll introduce you."

"Where's Malfoy?" Ron asked warily as Harry stood up, pushing his chair back with a soft noise on the stone floor.

"In the spare room in the middle," Harry said, frowning. "I think he's in the shower. He's fuming anyway, because I wouldn't give his wand back."

"I don't blame you," Ron said as they left the kitchen and headed for the stairs. "Wouldn't want him in my house with a wand."

"You wouldn't want him in your house full stop," Harry said with a short laugh.

"Yes, well we won't go into my thoughts about why you can have him in your house," Ron said firmly. "I'll let you work it out yourself."

"Sod off," Harry said without heat, and then paused on the landing. He nodded towards the door to Al's room and Ron padded forwards quietly, peering around the doorframe. He paused for a moment, and then turned back to Harry, mouthing _'bloody hell.'_

"I know, right?" Harry murmured, stealing a glance himself. Al was happily digging through his box of Lego as Scorpius added to the tower he was building. Al was talking to Scorpius about James and Alice and Scorpius was listening, looking intrigued.

"Are you sure that's not Malfoy and you've shrunk him?"

Harry laughed, rubbing his eyebrow. "I think he might be easier to deal with if I did."

"I take it he's not happy you bought him here?" Ron asked, and then peered back into Al's room again. "Have you checked that kid for a Dark Mark? Just to be on the safe side?"

Harry frowned at him. "That's not even funny."

Ron grinned. "Is a bit."

They clattered back down the stairs, Ron reaching into the fridge for a beer the moment they were back in the kitchen. Harry sank back into his chair and looked back at the picture Scorpius had drawn.

God but this was difficult.

"So when did he get here?"

"Yesterday," Harry told him. "It's been strange. Scorpius and Al have been joined at the hip since they got here, and he's taking it all in stride. Draco's not adjusting so well. I'm not sure he even knows what day it is."

"Well it's got to be hard," Ron said wisely. "He's probably a bit ashamed about it all."

"He is," Harry said, more to himself than Ron. "He's a whole bunch of other stuff as well. So protective over Scorpius it's a bit mad, really."

"So we were right," Ron said. "He's not doing it for fun."

"No-" Harry began and then froze. He held a finger up to his lips and Ron immediately shut his mouth, a small frown on his face. Harry heard another soft thump and then footsteps heading their way, footsteps that seemed too loud to belong to either of the children.

"Brace yourself," he murmured and Ron grimaced, just as Draco rounded the door to the kitchen, looking sullen. He paused in the doorframe and his whole body tensed as he saw Ron sitting there, and then his face transformed into a scowl.

"What is he doing here?"

"He's my friend," Harry said as Ron frowned in Malfoy's direction. "He just popped over for a beer."

"Come for a good laugh?" Draco said to Ron, his lip curling. "Go on."

Ron looked at him for a long moment and then – to Harry's relief – just shrugged. "Just here for the beer actually," he said neutrally, taking a swig. "Don't mind me."

Draco's scowl deepened and Harry watched carefully as he waited for Draco to respond. He could see Draco's instinctive desire to snarl at Ron and say something nasty, could see the hot shame and anger in his expression. But he could also see how Draco's eyes were red and puffy, and knew he'd been crying. He was fully dressed again in his jeans and T-shirt and his hair was still damp, confirming Harry's suspicion that he'd been in the shower.

Eventually, Draco's anger faded enough for him to turn away from Ron without another word. His shoulders slumped fractionally and he crossed his arms across his chest. Harry saw the tremble of his jaw and the downturn of his mouth, just before Draco gritted his teeth and forced his features back into a scowl.

"Is there anything to eat?" he asked Harry. "I'd like not to starve if that's okay by you."

"Stew, if you want some," Harry said, getting up out of his chair.

"Whatever," Draco muttered and Harry shot Ron a warning look as Ron cleared his throat audibly.

"The kids have eaten already," Harry said as he grabbed a clean plate from the side and turned to the pot of stew still warming atop the Aga.

"I know," Draco snapped. "I do talk to my son."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I never said you didn't. Do you want bread?"

"Yes," Draco said stiffly and Harry sighed. He hadn't anticipated Ron and Draco coming head to head so early, but he had to be grateful that the worst that had happened was a bit of scowling and some awkward tension.

"You look different."

"Fuck off, Weasley."

Harry sighed as he sliced two more pieces off of the loaf of bread on the chopping board. Well, what was he expecting, really? For them all to get on and sit and have a beer together? For all those years of ill-will to just vanish?

"Just trying to make conversation."

"Well, don't."

"I'm not trying to be a prick, you know. You could try the same."

"I don't care what you're trying to be. I don't care if you want to be my best friend, I don't like you."

"Enough," Harry said mildly, turning to give Draco a pointed look over his shoulder. Before Draco could snap back, he spoke again. "Is there anything Scorpius won't eat or that he doesn't like?"

Draco looked startled for a moment and then frowned again. Harry could see the mental struggle he was going through, presumably because he wanted Scorpius taken care of but didn't want Harry to do it.

"He won't eat fish," he finally bit out. "He's good with vegetables and pasta though. And he likes juice. Don't give him any stupid Muggle fizzy drinks."

"Okay, that's fine," Harry said and then turned to Draco, holding out a plate. "Are you eating down here?"

"Not likely," Draco said with a curl of his lip. Harry sighed again, shaking his head slightly. He wanted to talk to Draco, wanted to ask why he'd been crying, wanting to try and make it okay. But he couldn't, not with Draco hiding behind a mask of indifference and spite.

"Fine," Harry said, and passed him the plate, turning back around to put the bread knife away. Draco walked away almost immediately, his footsteps quick and soft on the floor.

Ron broke the silence. "You do realise he just nicked a bottle of wine, right?"

Harry span around. "What?"

Ron pointed across the room to the small wine rack that was set into the wall just behind the door. Harry didn't often drink wine, but Ginny and the others did so he always kept it well stocked with a variety to choose from. He swore as he saw there was indeed an empty space where he didn't think there had been before.

"Are you certain?" he asked.

"Yep. He looked right at me as he did it," Ron said, taking a swig of his beer.

"Bollocks," Harry muttered again, rubbing his forehead. "He's only just bloody dried out from yesterday."

"Sorry, mate. I didn't fancy him clawing my eyes out so I didn't say anything."

"No, it's okay," Harry said slowly. "Do you think I should take it off of him?"

Ron shrugged. "I think he probably needs to have a bender to get over the fact he's here. Get it out of his system. I wouldn't wind him up more than you have to."

"I just want him to let me help. Talk to me," Harry said helplessly, sitting back down. "It's so hard. Like I know he's been upset, but he won't do anything but snap at me."

"Give him some time," Ron said. "It's all you can do."

Harry stared listlessly down at Scorpius's picture. "I'm starting to think I'm way in over my head, here."

Ron looked sympathetic. "Still worth it, though?"

Harry blinked and scanned his eyes over the picture again. "It might be."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Draco's head was spinning. Or it might have been the ceiling. Or the bed, come to think of it. He blinked and watched the lampshade above his head waltz lazily across the expanse of white paint above him, now a dim grey in the late hours of the evening.

Red wine was a nice thing to drink, he decided. A lot better for him than whiskey. Whiskey made him talk too much and do things he wouldn't ever contemplate in a normal state of mind. He currently felt woozy and dizzy and rather detached from everything, like he were contemplating his life like it was a film he'd seen a long time back. Considering all that had happened to him in the last couple of days, feeling detached was probably a good thing.

The room was dark and quiet. It was a little unnerving. Normally as the sun started to fade over Knockturn he would hear shouts and cries and shrieks coming from the alley below his window, so the quietness around him now seemed unnatural. It had taken weeks to get used to living on Knockturn; at first he'd been jumping at every screech and bark, but after a while he just didn't pay any attention. It was easier that way, and it kept Scorpius calm, too.

This place that belonged to Potter felt safer than any place he'd been in for years. He hated to admit it, but it really did feel like a home. He'd been in this room just over twenty four hours and was already growing attached to the cream and green décor. It was so wonderfully comfortable and the gentle colours reminded him of his childhood room in the Manor. Even the smell was homely; warmth and coffee and good food and that occasional waft of what he assumed was Potter's aftershave, drifting along the landing and catching him unawares.

It was always Potter, wasn't it? Rescuing him again, and being such a predictably, idiotic_ Gryffindor_, what with the ridiculous sincerity and hope that Draco could basically feel radiating off of him. It was endearing and frustrating and made Draco want to cry.

He didn't know what to do. He couldn't bear to look at his life in the light of day or sobriety, didn't want to have to make any more big decisions. What if he made the wrong one again?

"Papa?"

He heard the whisper from the door and immediately rolled over, propping himself up onto his elbow and blearily pushing his fringe out of his face. Blinking hard, he looked towards the partially opened doorway, squinting in the light that flooded through from the hallway outside. He could just make out a familiar silhouette, the light breaking around their small figure.

"Come on, then."

The light disappeared and he heard the door click shut, a few seconds before he felt Scorpius clamber up onto the bed next to him, tugging at the green duvet.

"It's bedtime," Scorpius whispered.

"I know, brat. Come here."

He laid back and felt Scorpius immediately lay down, burrowing into his side, his breath tickling Draco's ribs. Draco reached out and sifted his fingers through his hair, unaccountably glad that Scorpius had come to find him. Maybe there were things Potter couldn't beat him at after all.

He swallowed thickly and shut his eyes, still gently stroking Scorpius's hair. The bed was so comfortable, a far cry from the mattress he'd left behind on Knockturn. He could feel sleep pulling at him already, his whole mind more relaxed by the simple fact that Scorpius was by his side.

"Je t'aime," he whispered, his voice tight, moments before his exhausted mind and body gave up and he drifted into sleep.

* * *

><p>"Can I please wake Scorpius up, Dad, please? Just so I can say goodbye?"<p>

Harry stood firm in the middle of the hallway, his arms crossed across his chest, with no intention of giving in to the pleading voice that was still badgering him. Al was slumped against his legs, craning his neck to look up at him with his most beseeching expression in place.

"No, leave him to sleep," Harry said firmly, even as Al pouted. He reached down and put his hand on Al's shoulder, trying to quietly guide – somehow without pushing - him along the corridor away from the room where Draco and Scorpius were currently asleep and towards the sitting room where Luna was due to arrive any moment. "Go on."

"Please?"

"Shush, you'll wake them up," Harry said with a warning frown down at Al, who was still leaning back against Harry's legs, one small hand pushing half-heartedly at his thigh.

"But then I won't see him till Thursday," Al whined. "He might think I've ran away."

"He won't think you've run away," Harry said, exasperated. Al slumped against him even more and Harry reached out to steady himself on the banister lest he fall back and end up on his arse in the corridor. "I'll tell him all about your obligations to school and Mum's house, don't worry. Not long and then you're on holiday anyway."

"Da-ad-"

"That's enough," Harry said firmly, and Al reluctantly stood up straight, casting one last glance of longing at the closed door of the spare room before trudging along the landing to the lounge. Harry shook his head and blew his breath out, grateful that that was over. God, but that child was determined.

"He's so lucky," Al said mournfully as he sat on the sofa next to his lunchbox, slumping down into the cushions. "I hate school."

"No you don't," Harry said with a smile, reaching over and ruffling Al's hair, making him protest and push Harry's hand away. "You're lucky you get to go to a magical school, you know. I didn't."

"Really?" Al asked, sounding fascinated, temporarily distracted from his earlier sulk. "Did you have to pretend you were a Muggle?"

"I didn't know I was a wizard until I was eleven," Harry said. "So think about how great it is that you get to see all this magic now."

"Don't get to do it though," Al said with a small frown. "Teddy gets to go to Hogwarts next year. He says that he's going to do magic all the time. It's not fair."

Before Harry could reply to the contrary there was a soft woosh and the fireplace was suddenly full of glittering green flames. Seconds later and Luna stepped through, brushing her hair out of her face, strawberry earrings swinging wildly at her cheeks.

"Sorry I'm late," she said calmly. "Someone fire-called about a potential Erumpment sighting and I had to pass on the information. Are you ready to go, Al?"

"Yes," Al said unenthusiastically, standing up and shoving his feet into his shoes, then reaching down to tug the backs out from under his heels.

"You don't sound very happy this morning," Luna commented.

"Dad wouldn't let me say goodbye to Scorpius," Al said, still struggling with his shoes. "He's my new friend and I won't see him 'till Thursday because him and his Dad are still asleep. He doesn't have to go to school."

There was a pause, and then Luna looked up at Harry with her expression perfectly neutral but quite clearly expecting an explanation.

"Scorpius?"

Harry shifted from foot to foot and cleared his throat, wondering why he was so reluctant to tell anyone about the guests in his home. "Scorpius Malfoy."

"He's four, like me." Al said brightly, finally winning the battle against his shoes and standing up straight, turning to grab his lunchbox.

"Oh, Harry," Luna said, turning wide eyes back to him and somehow making him feel like he should be ashamed of not telling them before. "You should have said. Ginny's ever so cross about you going to find Draco, you know. You didn't tell us he had a little boy."

"I didn't know," Harry said half-truthfully. Well, at first he hadn't known about Scorpius, so that would be the story he would be sticking with when Ginny came to kill him. Hopefully, he could use his Draco-has-a-son card as a way of dodging too much trouble.

"Are they really here?" Luna asked. "And in your spare room? Goodness."

Harry didn't know what the significance of Draco being in the spare room was, but he decided not to ask. Knowing Luna it was probably something to do with some creature or spectre he'd not heard of. Maybe ghosts liked to haunt spare rooms, he didn't know. "Yeah," he said in answer to her first question. "Fetched them on Saturday. He was in a bit of trouble so I had to go and get him from the hospital."

"I won't ask what type of trouble," Luna said solemnly. "I don't think he'd want anyone to know."

"No. He's a bit pissed off about it really," Harry said with a sigh. "I'm taking the day off of work today to make sure they're both okay."

"Have you already called in? Did you say you'd caught Pygmy Puff Pox? Apparently that's going around."

Harry snorted with laughter before he could stop himself. "No, actually. Adam Campbell answered the call. Practically tripped over himself to make sure that I had cover before I even had to come up with an excuse. It'll be alright anyway, it's only a Monday. It'd be a different story if I was skipping a weekend shift."

"Yes, I imagine it would," Luna said. "You've not really missed work before, have you? Not even when you left Ginny and were dreadfully hungover most mornings."

Harry winced. "Er, no," he said awkwardly. Luna either didn't notice or ignored his obvious discomfort. "I haven't."

"Well we better get off, make sure we're not late. I'll see you on Thursday then," Luna continued. "I'll bring them after school, yes?"

Harry nodded and managed a, "thank you, Luna," before bending over to give Al a hug, squeezing him tight and feeling abnormally overprotective of his youngest son.

Al wrapped one of his arms around Harry's neck in return, leaning upwards to whisper in his ear, his hair tickling Harry's temple. "Promise Scorpius'll be here on Thursday?"

"Can't promise, but he should be," Harry replied, his voice also a whisper. "Go on. I'll tell him you said goodbye."

"Come on Al," Luna said brightly. "We've got to fetch your brother yet. He tells me that your class have got a new Niffler."

Al let go of Harry and bounded away, instantly engrossed in telling Luna about the new Niffler that had apparently been named Nelson. Harry smiled as Luna guided Al through the floo, and they disappeared in a whirl of green flames, Harry's heart clenching in the familiar manner it did whenever his children left.

Harry breathed out deeply, linking his fingers and putting his hands on the back of his head. He wondered how long before Ginny found out what he'd done, and how badly she'd react. He didn't know yet whether Luna would tell everyone about Malfoy or not. And if she did, he couldn't guess whether she would tell because she didn't think it was a big deal, or because she knew it was a big deal and didn't want it kept a secret. It was harder to second guess Luna than people sometimes anticipated.

Shaking his head, he left the sitting room, pausing in the doorway to lock the floo on his way out. He felt a little guilty but pushed the feeling away; he was only trying to keep Draco and Scorpius safe, and he really didn't want Draco taking off without at least discussing it with him first.

He was planning on going down to the kitchen to make another pot of coffee but found himself inexplicably pausing outside the door to the spare room, exactly where he'd found Al hovering before he'd shooed him away. Holding his breath, he reached out and gently pushed at the door, wondering if it were locked. It moved with a soft click of the latch, clearly unlocked. He gently applied more pressure to open it a little further, curiosity and something he couldn't name compelling him to look inside.

The room was dim, the bright light of the June morning softened by the curtains that were still pulled across the window. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust, and then weakly smiled as he saw two impossibly blond heads resting on the pillows.

Scorpius was spread out like a starfish, arms and limbs everywhere and just discernible under the blankets. The pair of Al's pyjama's Harry had given him to wear were slightly too big; he could see the cuffs covering his hands, fingertips just visible next to his face. It made Harry smile to see him so relaxed, even in a place that he didn't know very well.

Draco was curled up in a ball with the covers pulled right up to his neck. His face was relaxed, his mouth slightly open, and Harry was struck at how peaceful he looked. There was no scowl on his face, no frown, no nervous biting of his lip.

Harry knew what it was like to feel like your whole life was out of control. And whilst he couldn't relate directly to whatever mess Draco had gotten himself into…it was strangely nice to see that there was still a small time that Draco could find peace in.

Half smiling, Harry stepped back out of the room and gently shut the door, leaving the two occupants to sleep as long as they liked. Now, all he had to do was work out what to do with his own time, until either Malfoy awoke and needed him.

* * *

><p>"Well, if I put this bit on there…" Harry said, carefully lifting his tower of lego pieces to rest atop the brick shaped wedge already assembled on the rug.<p>

"It looks like a castle!" Scorpius said in delight, reaching out to help position the tower, pressing it down firmly.

Harry laughed. "It does a bit, doesn't it?"

"A castle has to have more than two towers," Scorpius said seriously, eyes scanning the carpet for more stray bricks.

Harry smiled as Scorpius immediately set about constructing another turret for their lego castle. It was strange; he'd built lego castles with both Al and James, who had also been delighted with their multicolour 'Hogwarts'. In truth, Harry thought the lego representations looked nothing like Hogwarts, but he wasn't going to underestimate the power of an imagination attached to a four year old child.

And what an imagination Scorpius had. Harry had no idea what had happened in his four years of life, considering Draco's circumstances, but it didn't seem to have dampened Scorpius's spirits. He had a few moments where an odd expression flickered across his pale face, an expression rather out of place on a four year old. In those moments he seemed to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders, but they quickly faded in delight and laughter at things around him.

Harry had to wonder if Draco had been the sole influence in Scorpius's upbringing. He couldn't imagine it somehow; Draco's temperament and situation didn't seem to be that which could provide a good upbringing for a child, but here it was. All in all, Scorpius seemed very well adjusted.

But then, he'd grown up in a cupboard and he thought he was remarkably well rounded despite his time with the Dursleys. Maybe having Draco Malfoy as a dad wasn't that bad, in the grand scheme of things. Or maybe the cupboard was a better option than having a borderline alcoholic, overly defensive, part time whore who was probably involved in something illegal as a father. It was a tough call.

He surreptitiously checked his watch. He saw in surprise that it was almost half twelve, which he supposed meant it was time for lunch. Although, considering it had been ten before Scorpius had come down in search of some cereal, maybe lunch would have to be later. Maybe when Draco woke up, if he decided to even get up today-

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!"

Harry and Scorpius both froze as a shout echoed up the stairs, presumably from somewhere near the fireplace in the kitchen. Even if he didn't acknowledge the use of his full name, he would have been able to tell that whoever was shouting was less than happy.

"Bugger," Harry muttered, and then sighed. "Don't worry," he said to Scorpius, who was still looking nervously towards the door.

"Who is it?"

"A friend of mine," Harry said, and the winced as a second shout of his name followed, sounding even terser than the first. "She's cross with me. Don't worry."

"Friends don't shout," Scorpius said quietly and Harry was immediately transported back to the moment in the police station when he'd first met Scorpius. Now, it wasn't guilt at his own behaviour that twisted through his stomach, but a desire to make sure Scorpius felt safe in his home. And if that meant shoving Ginny back through the floo…well. He'd work it out when he got downstairs.

"They do sometimes when I've done something silly," Harry said with a wan smile. "It's nothing to do with you though, don't worry. Wait here, okay?"

Scorpius nodded and went back to his lego, still shooting glances towards the open door. Harry pushed himself up off the carpet, brushing his T-shirt down and then swiftly headed downstairs, feeling nervous and resigned to the fact he was going to get yelled at, probably quite a lot.

He should have locked the downstairs floo as well, he thought glumly. Ginny was one of the few who could get in through that floo port, and considering she was the one he wanted to hide from the most…he probably should have thought about this a whole lot more.

"You're twenty six," he muttered to himself as he reached the bottom of the stairs and stalled, his hand still on the curved end of the banister. "Man up."

Despite his motivational pep-talk, he couldn't help but cringe slightly when he entered the kitchen and saw Ginny stood by the fireplace, looking as furious as he'd ever seen her. Well, maybe she'd been a teensy bit angrier that time when Harry had possibly decided to blurt out that he was gay whilst she was in labour with their second child, but it was definitely a close call.

"So," she said, her voice carefully controlled and all the more threatening for it. "Care to tell me all about the new friend Al has made? Luna seems to think you've got something to tell me."

"Well-"

Ginny's restraint broke before Harry even managed to get a sentence out. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?" she shouted, moving around the table. Harry took a hasty step backwards, belatedly checking behind him so that he didn't run into the wine rack. He mentally noted that he still had a good two steps he could use if he needed. "You better tell me that this is some enormous hallucination that George has invented because really, you wouldn't be quite stupid enough to move Draco Malfoy into your house without telling us-"

"Erm-"

Ginny stopped ranting and took another step forwards. "Harry?"

"Well…I think stupidity is relative, if you think about it…"

"You actually did," Ginny said faintly, and then her voice rose again. "Merlin, you actually did! Were you actually going to tell me before I sent the boys over? Or were you happy to let them sit and have dinner with a Death Eater?"

"Gin, calm down," Harry protested. "It's not that bad-"

"Not that bad?" she repeated incredulously. "You haven't seen Malfoy in seven years! You know what he did, _everything_ he did and you just invite him into your house? Do you even know where he's been since you last saw him?"

Harry opened his mouth and then shut it again, not knowing what a safe answer would be. If he admitted that he knew a bit of what Draco had been up to, she would have undoubtedly have him by his bollocks in ten seconds flat. But on the other hand, lying and saying he didn't know anything about Draco wasn't a good answer either.

"You don't, do you?" she asked and he shrugged, looking away. She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back out of her face. "Harry, you can't just bring random people here, and especially not when the boys are here."

Harry felt a flash of guilt twine its way through his stomach. She was right in a way and he knew it; trusting his instincts was all well and good and undoubtedly served him well in some situations, at work for instance, but maybe it was a tad rash to simply bring Malfoy into his home without knowing a little more about the man.

"I trust him," Harry found himself saying, and was a little taken aback by the words that had just spilled out of his mouth. Not as much as Ginny was; she was now looking at him like she would quite like to shake him.

"He tried to kill you, Harry."

"He didn't actually," Harry said matter-of-factly. "He broke my nose and cursed me, but I don't remember him actually trying to kill me."

"You're being infuriating," Ginny snapped.

"Well you haven't stopped to listen to me," Harry replied, his own temper sparking in his chest, fuelled by Ginny's anger at him. "You're just coming in and making assumptions."

"I don't care what the explanation is," she replied sharply. "All I know is that you've moved some man you barely know into your house and introduced him to my son-"

"Your son?" Harry asked incredulously. "Make him all by yourself did you?"

"Don't get clever with me," Ginny snapped. "I have a good mind not to let either of the boys come over whilst Malfoy is in the house."

"He's not dangerous, for god's sake!" Harry shouted back, frustrated. "He's not even got his wand! Look, he was in trouble, so I wanted to help. I told you that. And now he's here he's safe, and I'm not going to just chuck him out-"

"You-"

Ginny's argument died on her lips and Harry tensed as her gaze shifted from his face to some point behind his shoulder. Her scowl fell, replaced with a look of confused surprise, laced with distress-

Harry span around and resisted the urge to swear. Draco was standing there in the doorway, his expression wary, and on his hip was Scorpius. The top of his head was pressed against Draco's jaw and his wide eyes were fixed on Harry.

"Oh," Ginny said faintly, and understanding hit Harry with the force of a bludger. Ginny had had no idea that Al's new friend was Scorpius, as opposed to Draco. Typical Ginny, he thought ruefully. Charging straight in with a fit of righteous anger without knowing everything. She was seriously like a lioness protecting her cubs, and Harry tried to remember that on occasions where she got a tad overbearing.

Draco took a step back towards the doorway, hitching Scorpius up. "Sorry," he said, his voice hoarse. He looked downcast and miserable, but there was an edge of something else as well as his eyes flickered over Harry, something stronger. "We were looking for juice."

"You-" Ginny tried and then looked to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

"Yeah," Harry said, gesturing helplessly and then shoving his hands in his pockets. "That's Scorpius."

Ginny turned slowly back to Draco and Scorpius, her jaw clenched tightly. It was almost like when Draco had seen Ron; Harry could see the emotions fighting for supremacy in her expression. Anger and frustration were the strongest, and he could tell that she was trying very hard not to tear into Malfoy for all the things in their past and his present intrusion in their lives. But at the same time, Scorpius was there and Harry knew Ginny wouldn't want to cause harm or distress to any child, no matter whose it was.

"Is he yours?" Ginny finally broke the silence, her eyes on Scorpius. Harry braced himself for a snide comment from Draco; of course Scorpius was Draco's son. You could tell just by looking.

Draco stared at her for a moment. "Can't you tell?"

Ginny blinked and then she laughed weakly, reaching up to rub her eyes. "Of course. This makes sense, really. It's you. And you have a child. No wonder Harry had to-"

She broke off and Harry was inwardly grateful; he didn't think for one second that Malfoy would appreciate the words 'rescue' coming out of her mouth. As such, he just stood there, looking at Ginny with a frown on his face.

"Malfoy, I-" she began but Draco cut her off.

"Save it," he said, though his tone was significantly mellower than it had been when talking to Ron. "This is your business, not mine. We'll come back later."

The 'when you've left,' was left unspoken but they all heard it. Ginny's shoulders tensed as Draco turned and left, saying something quietly to Scorpius in French when they were just outside the door.

"He speaks French?" she asked quietly.

Harry nodded. "Yes, they both do."

Silence fell between him and Ginny, an uncomfortable moment in which Harry stared at the floor and Ginny fiddled with the ends of her hair, waiting for Harry to speak. It carried on, heavy and oppressive, and Harry wondered if things were ever going to be alright again. This wasn't a normal bickering match, like the ones they'd had when they'd first separated. This felt bigger.

"I take it Scorpius is the friend that Al is so taken with?" Ginny asked finally. Harry looked up and she looked away, avoiding eye contact, embarrassed to acknowledge her mistake.

"Yes. Al's not seen Draco much. He's been in his room most of the time. They crossed paths briefly yesterday but that's it," Harry shrugged again.

"Have you kissed him?"

Harry looked around so quickly his neck clicked. Rubbing at it, he shook his head. "_No_. He was in trouble with some people, so I fetched him."

"Trouble. The bruises?" Ginny asked bluntly and Harry nodded.

"Picked up him from hospital."

Ginny blew out a breath, rubbing her temple. "You just attract trouble don't you?" She didn't seem to want an answer, for which Harry was grateful. He didn't think he had one. "I'm still not happy about this," she finally said, her face knitted into a frown as she turned away towards the floo.

"Not expecting you to be."

Harry saw her jaw clench as she bit back a retort and stepped up to the floo, reaching for the small jar of floor powder on the mantelpiece. She shook her head almost imperceptibly and then disappeared in a swirl of glittering flames, leaving the atmosphere in the kitchen brittle and unsatisfied.

Harry rubbed his face and breathed out deeply, his shoulders slumping. "Fuck," he muttered, his fingers pressed hard to his lips. He didn't know how much of the argument between him and Ginny Draco had overheard and that made him a tad nervous. What exactly had he said? Hopefully nothing that Draco would see as patronizing or pitying. He also honestly didn't know if Ginny would let the boys come over on Thursday, and that made a hot swirl of panic form deep in his stomach. He wanted to help Draco, he really did, but he loved his kids too much to risk having them taken away from him. He didn't see them enough as it was.

If he looked at the grand scheme of things, he had to acknowledge that it could have gone a lot worse, he thought despondently. No cursing, hexing, threats to call Kingsley. Not even much swearing, really.

He couldn't help but wish it had gone better.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Morning."

Harry slid into the chair that sat unoccupied next to Ellis's desk, putting two cups of coffee atop a stack of parchment that he was willing to bet had been there for at least a fortnight.

"You're in trouble," Ellis replied promptly, reaching for his coffee. "Shaw is looking for you. So is Roberts."

"Oh are they now," Harry muttered, slouching further down into his chair. Maybe if he slouched far enough no-one would be able to spot him. "Wonderful."

"Yep," Ellis said, sipping at his drink and fixing Harry with a stare that quite clearly invited him to get to the point. "Going to tell me why?"

Harry shrugged evasively, focussing his attention on his own coffee. "I have no idea."

"Bollocks," Ellis snorted. "How many rules have you broken this time?"

Harry sighed. "About twelve at the last count," he said ruefully, and across the table, Ellis winced.

"Twelve?"

"Well, you're implicit in the breaking of about three of them, so I'd be careful Roberts doesn't come after you as well."

"Me?" Ellis asked indignantly. "What have I-" he paused, looking suspicious and a little exasperated. "Have you done something to Malfoy? Rumour has it that he's tied in with the Hightops nonsense. If you've hexed him or anything you'll have the entire Auror force chasing you with wands out."

"I've not hexed him," Harry said, but Ellis didn't look convinced.

"Then what have you done? Have you actually broken twelve department rules?" Ellis asked, looking both intrigued and horrified. "_Merlin._"

"I can't tell you," Harry said. "Roberts might torture it out of you."

"That he might."

Harry twisted around, his heart sinking as he heard Roberts's voice right behind him. He was standing in the doorway, a sheaf of notes in his hand and his expression grim. Harry ignored Ellis's muttered curse and stood up awkwardly.

"Roberts."

"Come on. You're out," Roberts said flatly, stepping forwards and passing the sheaf of papers over to Harry. Harry skimmed over the one on top, taking in the official Ministry stamp in the top corner, and then as he read the first sentence his jaw fell open.

"_Suspended?_"

"Indefinitely. By the Minister," Roberts said grimly, and then jerked his head at Ellis. "You'll be working with Campbell until this tit gets back."

Ellis's face fell. "No! Potter, you prick, now look what you've done! Bloody hell, can't I work with anyone else-?"

"Shut up and deal with it," Roberts said with a roll of his eyes. "Now Potter, you best get a move on before the rest of the Aurors turn up to hex you to hell and back."

"You can't suspend me," Harry tried to say, shaking his head. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh no. Apart from interfere with a suspect that you know is involved in a high-profile Auror case, Apparate said suspect away from a Muggle hospital without clearance, and that's after obliviating someone you weren't authorized to," Roberts said tiredly. "Don't act stupid Potter. Now get out before anyone else finds you."

"This is a fucking joke," Harry snapped, and pushed past Roberts, clenching the parchment in his hand into a crumpled mess. He couldn't believe it; he'd actually been suspended for nothing more than _caring_ about another human being-

"If it helps, I would have done the same."

Harry's steps faltered as Roberts called out behind him. He stopped and wearily turned as Roberts caught up, his arms folded across his chest and his expression unusually soft, almost sympathetic.

"Oh, I'm sure."

"Stop being melodramatic," Roberts said with a frown. "I would. I wouldn't have left a vulnerable adult with a kid out there because it _might_ provide a break in a case. That's not fair."

"That's what I said!" Harry exclaimed, and then huffed, running his fingers through his fringe. "I couldn't just leave him."

"I take it you know exactly where he is now?" Roberts asked. Harry glared at him and Roberts glared back. "I'm not going to run off and tell Kingsley," he said, exasperated. "I just want to know where we're at with this mess."

Harry sighed. "Yeah. I know where he is. He's safe."

"And is he talking to you?" Roberts asked and Harry shrugged.

"A little."

"Well, if you could get him to divulge anything about his past employment, it would be appreciated," Roberts said in a low voice, talking over Harry as he opened his mouth to protest. "I'm not saying to force him; I'm just saying that if you _could_ get him to talk, then it might work out better than leaving him out there to lead the Aurors to someone. The sooner this case breaks, the sooner Kingsley will let you come back to work."

Harry's shoulders slumped, defeated.

"This is bollocks."

"Life is bollocks, Potter. Get used to it. Now get out of here before the rest of the Aurors get their hands on you."

Harry nodded tiredly and turned on his heel. Quite a few people shot him glances on his way down to the apparition point, making him suspect that people already knew about his suspension. Bollocks indeed. He wasn't going to be able to hide it if the whole department knew, and besides that, it would go on his file. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry as he imagined the words "suspended for rescuing Draco Malfoy" written in Kingsley's neat script.

Well, at least that gave him more time at home to spend with the boys and Malfoy, he thought wanly. That was if Ginny wasn't too furious with him to let him have the boys. Maybe he'd tell Neville first, so he could tell Ginny and hopefully keep her calm; he was good at that in a way Harry had never been.

He Apparated as close to his house as he could and walked back slowly, dragging his feet and wondering how the hell he was going to not drive himself mental with boredom without his job to go to. How long was he going to be suspended for anyway? A fortnight? Six months? The walk back seemed to take twice as long as usual, and it was with heavy feet and a heavier heart that he finally dragged himself up his front steps, pulling his key out of his pocket and pressing his palm to the door at the spot charmed to recognise his touch.

He kicked the door shut, aiming to vent some of his simmering frustration but succeeding only in hurting his foot, which just made him angrier. He swore, belatedly hoped that Scorpius wasn't anywhere nearby, and then made a beeline for the stairs.

This was Malfoy's bloody fault, he thought heatedly. He should have listened to his friends; getting himself involved with Malfoy had caused nothing but trouble and the bastard didn't even want to acknowledge how much Harry had done for him.

Not even bothering to knock, he forcefully pushed open the door to Draco's room, the thick carpet underneath the only thing stopping it from crashing back into the wall. Draco was sat on the edge of the bed, staring contemplatively out of the window and as the door was flung open is head snapped around to look at Harry, and Harry saw fear flitter across his face before it transformed into his usual sneer.

"I know this is your house, but it's good manners to knock on the door to a guest's room."

"I just got sent home from work," Harry cut across him, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. Draco shifted and slid off the bed, standing up and looking wary, looking from Harry to the door and back again. "Because of _you_. Happy?"

Draco glanced around him and then back to Harry. "What? I didn't do anything."

"The Minister knows that I've had contact with you and they've suspended me for it!" Harry shouted, taking an angry step forward.

"What?" Draco's mouth fell open in shock and distress, presumably at the mention of the Minister rather than the news that Harry had been suspended. He reached up to grab hold of his hair, his eyes darting about frantically as he tried to think. "The Minister - you fucking idiot!"

"Don't you dare call me an idiot," Harry shouted. "All I've done is try to help-"

"You should have left it alone!" Draco yelled back. He turned away agitatedly, covering his face with his hands. "Oh fuck, the fucking Minister knows, that means the Aurors know-"

"Shut up, just shut up," Harry couldn't help it. He was feeling angry and betrayed and so fucking unappreciated and Draco just got under his skin like no-one else, riled him up in ways that no-one else ever managed. He wanted to shout and scream and throw things and thank fuck for Malfoy because he would shout and scream right back.

"You shut up – this is all your fault-"

Harry closed the distance between them in seconds, grabbing Draco by his upper arms and shoving him back against the wall. Draco cried out as Harry crowded up to him, gripping his arms tightly enough to leave pale indents under his fingertips. Draco had a good six inches on Harry's height but he flinched as Harry bought their faces close together.

"This is _not_ my fault," Harry said, his voice low and dangerous. "We're in this mess together now. I brought you and your kid here, and I'm feeding you and giving you a place to sleep. I lied for you, and got fucking suspended from work for you. Start acting grateful."

Draco flinched again like Harry had struck him, and then raised his head to stare at a point behind Harry's shoulder. His chin wobbled and his jaw tightened and then he nodded fractionally.

"I didn't ask you to."

Rather than defiant, the words were quiet, almost pleading, as if Draco didn't want Harry to blame him any longer. It somehow worked; Harry recognised the change in attitude for what it was, and as such his own anger quickly faded. Draco swallowed thickly and Harry watched as his adams-apple moved in his throat. Realising that they were entirely too close together, Harry let him go and took a step back, feeling flustered and also slightly guilty as Draco raised his hands to rub at the fingermarks on his skin.

"I didn't mean to get you suspended," Draco muttered, so quietly that Harry almost missed it.

"I know," Harry sighed. "But I did, so the least you can do is appreciate what I'm trying to do for you."

Draco didn't bother to acknowledge the statement but he didn't make a disparaging comment either, which was probably progress. It soothed Harry's frayed temper at any rate, and enabled him to calm down enough so that he didn't want to shout any more. Harry watched as Draco moved over to slump heavily onto the bed, his spine bowing as he leant forwards to rest his elbows on his knees, his head on his hands.

"If the Minister knows then the Aurors know. Which means that_ they'll_ know that you know where I am," he said, more to himself than Harry.

"What?" Harry interrupted sharply. "How will your lot know just because the Aurors know?"

Draco laughed hollowly and sat up. "Why do you think this mess has never been sorted? Not all of the Aurors are as noble as you."

Harry stared at Draco for a long moment, trying to ascertain whether he was lying. His brain was ticking over frantically- fuck, if there were Aurors on the payroll for the Hightops gang of course they were going to have trouble finding the suspects they wanted. He stopped himself from mentally going through the list of Aurors trying to see if any of them stood out as suspects.

"I'm not an Auror," he finally said with a wan smile, walking over to kneel down besides Draco's feet.

The reaction was startling; Draco jerked back and shied away, immediately bringing his knees tightly together and crossing his arms up over his chest. Harry leant back, holding his hands up.

"Whoa, calm down. It's just me," he said carefully, keeping his hands up where Draco could see them.

Draco nodded jerkily, his eyes fixed on Harry's hands. Harry tentatively bought his left hand down to rest gently on Draco's knee and watched how Draco suppressed the urge to cringe.

"Am I that bad?" Harry joked, his voice low and quiet.

"Yes," Draco replied, although Harry suspected that the reaction hadn't been because of him. Draco's knee was trembling under Harry's touch and Harry was suddenly very aware that this was the first time that Draco had let Harry touch him.

It was the first time he'd touched anyone that wasn't family or close friends in ages, too. Draco's knee was warm and solid under his palm, and Harry wondered how long it had been since anyone besides Scorpius had touched Draco without wanting to hurt him. Without really thinking about it, he moved his fingers slightly, his fingertips pressing slightly into Draco's leg.

Draco drew in a sharp breath and Harry looked up, puzzled. Draco was staring at him like he couldn't quite believe he was there, his eyes wide and almost fearful. Harry opened his mouth to question Draco's expression when he realised with a jolt the circumstances under which Draco was normally touched by others; he snatched away his hand as if Draco had burnt him, stumbling back and to his feet.

"Sorry," he said, wanting to hit himself.

Draco stared at him and then his face transformed into a bitter scowl. "Knew you wouldn't be able to stand touching me. Wouldn't want to get your hands dirty."

Without another word, he flung himself back onto the bed, pulling his knees up so he was curled up in a ball on his side, his back to Harry and the door. Harry gaped at him, feeling like an idiot.

"That's not what I meant," he said helplessly, running his hands through his hair. Fuck, did Draco just wilfully misunderstand everything he did on purpose?

"Fuck off," Draco snapped, not moving a muscle. "Or I'll forget I'm supposed to be grateful."

Harry turned on his heel, storming out of the room and slamming the door as hard as he could. They'd managed five fucking minutes of near civility and then it had all fallen apart – what had he been thinking anyway, touching Draco? God, if Ron or Hermione found out he'd never hear the end of it, even if it had only been a hand on a knee.

Everyone would probably think that a small inconsequential touch meant that he and Draco were sleeping together, Harry thought as he stomped down to the kitchen to get a beer out of the fridge, defiantly making a point not to care that it wasn't even ten in the morning yet. He paused as he sat down at the table, wondering why he and Draco were making such a big deal out of a tiny touch, never mind what everyone else thought.

Draco was easy to understand. What he'd been through…Harry didn't know how much of his career had been voluntary or forced. He wasn't sure if Draco actually knew his own free will from orders any more. He'd never been very good at distinguishing the two, Harry thought sombrely as he ran his thumb over the label of his bottle. It was just so inherently sad that Draco flinched when Harry went to touch him. Although, Harry had probably not made that any better by grabbing him and shoving him up against the wall.

His own turbulent thoughts were less easy to decipher. Why was he so bothered that Draco couldn't stand to be touched? Was he taking it too personally, disregarding Draco's past, or was he subconsciously thinking of Draco's past and feeling disappointed that people had ruined a simple act of pleasure for him?

He snapped the cap off his beer bottle and took a mouthful to try and distract himself. This was stupid. He shouldn't start thinking about touching Draco in any context – it was a sure fire recipe for trouble.

He didn't want to touch Draco, did he?

_No_, he thought with a scowl, even as a small traitorous part of his mind he hadn't been aware of said _yes_. Eyes widening slightly, he tried to push the thought away but it wouldn't go. _Yes,_ it said. _You've been obsessed with Malfoy for forever. Did you never work out why?_

"No," Harry said aloud, refusing to care that he was arguing with himself, and refusing to give in and examine that treacherous thought in any more detail. He didn't think of Malfoy like that. Never had, never would. It was just because he'd not been laid or even had a date in ages, he reasoned. That was all. An unattached, gay male had been dropped on his doorstep – or forcibly dragged through it, but that wasn't the point – and a small part of him had instantly perked up and become interested. It didn't matter to that small part of him that the unattached, attractive, gay male was Draco Malfoy; his childhood nemesis who also happened to be a rentboy with several dubious connections to the biggest crime-ring seen in the wizarding world in years.

Why in the name of Merlin could he just not make things easy for himself? Harry shook his head, taking another mouthful of beer. Heaven forbid that he'd ever manage to do that.

* * *

><p>It was a long time before Draco managed to make himself move. The minutes passed and strayed into hours, but he didn't mind. He stayed still, lying on his bed on his side curled up into a ball, breathing evenly and trying to quell the urge to go and shower. He resisted for as long as he could, but as his thoughts strayed and he thought about being touched by people other than Potter, the discomfort grew. Finally, he gave in and slipped into the bathroom, turning the shower up as hot as he could stand it before getting in. For long minutes he didn't make any effort to wash himself; he just stood there and let the water wash away the prickling, nauseous feeling.<p>

He climbed out only when his legs were starting to grow weary, methodically going through the motions of getting dry and dressed, stumbling every so often as he went for his wand and remembered he didn't have it. He was still frankly amazed that he was able to even get by without using magic every time he wanted to do something, but he supposed it was just one of those things he'd get used to. He didn't anticipate Potter giving his wand back any time soon, and he didn't think it was a battle he would win if he demanded it be returned.

Glancing at the clock on the wall and ignoring the fact he should probably have some lunch, he sloped over to the bookshelf that was on the wall near the foot of the bed. He looked over it, interested despite himself. The Quidditch books and magazines were to be expected, as were some of the practical home and childcare books, as well as some old battered children's story books. What Draco didn't expect were the novels that lined the shelves, obviously well-thumbed and re-read. But then again, he'd come to realise that he didn't really know Harry as well as he'd first thought.

Grabbing a book at random, he edged back and sat down on the edge of the bed. He flipped it open and started reading, but after a while his thoughts started to wander, and the story was forgotten.

Excluding Scorpius, he didn't like people touching him, especially when he wasn't expecting it. Touching either led to sex or violence, and neither were things Draco looked forwards to. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had sex because he'd actually really wanted to. Before Scorpius was born, maybe? After Scorpius had arrived he'd been too busy – not to mention exhausted – trying to work out how to care for a baby to be sleeping with anyone.

He was unnerved even further by the fact it was Potter who had touched him. He could count on his fingers the amount of times that he and Potter had touched in his lifetime, and each incident was a memory Draco couldn't shake. The only time he'd ever been close to Potter for more than five seconds was when Potter had rescued him from the fire in the room of requirement.

And now Potter was touching him and rescuing him all over again. Draco sat up with a groan, wondering why it had to be Potter, why Potter had to be the one to see Draco in this state, why Potter had to be the only one that ever managed to save him. It was unbearable really, to feel like the universe was trying to prove a point to him by sticking him with Potter all over again. Look, it seemed to say, this is how your life would have been if you'd been the good guy. A few things done differently and this is what you could have had.

He morosely ran his fingers over his knee, in the same spot that Harry's hand had been, tensing as he remembered how Harry had snatched his hand away. He clenched his fingers into a fist and drew it up to his chest, feeling a lump in his throat.

He hadn't even known what the boss wanted from him at first. He'd been sent on errands, collecting and delivering packages and parcels and other simple tasks. It has seemed brilliant to start with; in return he'd been given a place to stay, with the assurance that his rent would be taken care of. Then one day he'd been asked to accompany the boss to a meeting. To begin with, he'd hovered at the back, unsure as to why he was actually there and feeling awkward, more so when he'd noticed a well-dressed, dark haired gentlemen eyeing him with undisguised interest, eyes flicking over Draco as if critiquing something he was contemplating purchasing.

Six hours later and he'd found himself on his back underneath the dark-haired man who had been at the meeting, hardy daring to believe his luck. He couldn't believe that someone had actually _noticed_ him, flirted with him, taken him to dinner and then to the executive suite in a very expensive hotel…

He'd not even managed to catch his breath before it had all gone horribly wrong. The man had redressed, sauntered over to the sideboard and poured two glasses of brandy. Draco had sat up expectantly, pulling the sheets around his waist, and then the door had opened and the boss had walked in to take the second drink.

Draco hadn't even heard what the boss had said, but he'd seen the way the man had cast an amused glance back at the bed before raising his glass in a derisive toast. The boss had laughed too but Draco hadn't heard it over the ringing in his ears. He'd stared blankly as the man had handed over a hefty bag of galleons to the boss, feeling like he was going to be sick.

_'Not bad for an hours work,_' the boss had said, leaving Draco feeling utterly humiliated and disgusted with himself. However, the share of the money he'd been given had bought both him and Scorpius new clothes, and the boss had also given him a few days off and given him preferential treatment for a good few weeks afterwards. It hadn't taken Draco long to convince himself that sleeping with clients was an easy thing to do. The boss was so much nicer when Draco did as he asked, and it was almost worth it just for an easier life. The extra money quickly became a necessity as well; Scorpius was always so excited when Draco bought him anything new, and Draco couldn't bear the thought of him going without.

But now…he could see it was just another bad choice in his long history of making mistakes. Unfortunately for him, his bad choices didn't just affect his life in the short term; they followed him everywhere he went, haunting him as if they were actual ghosts. The Dark Mark on his left arm would never go away, and neither would the fact he'd allowed himself to be sold like an animal at market. His initial thought that the dark-haired man had been appraising him for purchase had turned out to be truer than he ever wanted to acknowledge.

Once a whore, always a whore, he supposed. Even a simple touch between him and someone decent had been ruined and turned into something ugly.

Not that Potter was a decent person, he mentally amended with a scowl. Potter was a Gryffindor busy-body who enjoyed sticking his nose into other people's business. Never mind that the boy-wonder had grown up to be irritatingly good-looking.

He couldn't forget the amount of times he'd imagined Potter touching him, the amount of times he'd wished with all his heart that Potter would touch him. And now he had, and Draco had ruined it again, just like he ruined everything. Fuck, could he not just think about things before reacting? He knew full well that he pushed people away by being defensive, but he just couldn't help it.

Draco groaned aloud and flopped back onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He knew he should be grateful, even without Potter reminding him. Potter didn't have to rescue him and try to help, never mind if Draco wanted the help or not. He certainly didn't have to get himself suspended from work, and he certainly didn't have to go to such lengths to ensure Scorpius was safe and happy.

He wanted to hate Potter. It was the easiest thing to do, it was safe and known. Trust the prick to make it so damn difficult to do.

This was just so complicated. Regardless of how shit his life had been, it had been orderly and easy to predict. He would go to work as instructed, sleep with valuable clients as expected and then go home to Scorpius. He would get shouted at, he would get drunk, he would sometimes get arrested, and then he would be thrown back onto the streets to start the whole cycle again.

But now, Potter had broken his entire routine, shattered his entire world. In a way, he felt as if he were in limbo, with Potters house acting as some sort of metaphorical waiting room. As he saw it there were two options; he could go back to his old life, beg for mercy and hope no-one would be too mad at him, or he could trust Potter to get him out.

If getting out was even possible, that was. Draco wasn't stupid. He knew that his boss wasn't just a run of the mill criminal who kept tabs on whores; they were both cogs in a much bigger machine. He blinked and felt his stomach tighten as he considered how much trouble he would be in if they ever found him again. He could deal with cuts and bruises, but if one more person cast the cruciatus curse on him he was actually going to lose his mind. He knew he wasn't brave, and whilst he didn't care about a bit of pain, the threat of that curse was enough to make him do as he was told every single time.

Which left option two. Potter. Fuck, _why_ did it have to be Potter?

It was that thought that made Draco stop and think. He rubbed his eyes hard and then pressed his fingers to his lips, thinking hard.

He wanted out.

It had been so long since he'd had a sense of what he _wanted_ to do, rather than feeling that he _had_ to do things to get by. But now it was clear enough; he didn't want to be doing what he was doing, he didn't want to have to leave Scorpius with an elderly witch whilst he went out working. He didn't want Scorpius to be scared that he wouldn't come home. He didn't want to have to try and heal black eyes anymore so his son didn't see.

The only issue that his mind was throwing up was that it was Potter. All in all, Draco didn't seem to have any other qualms about getting out, only the method of doing so.

The possibility of finally sorting his life out hung tentatively in the back of his mind, and he didn't dare examine it too closely. There wasn't any guarantee that he could get himself out of the predicament he'd ended up in, but now there was at least a part of him that wanted to try.

He had become pretty good at putting a brave face on, but now he was tired. He was fed up of being strong and trying to do everything himself. He'd almost forgotten himself; he could barely remember the boy who had fled England at the age of eighteen, unwanted and scared after the war. He couldn't even remember the twenty-two year old who had found himself a father and been so completely overwhelmed by the small screaming bundle in his arms that he couldn't care about anything else.

All he knew was that he was now twenty-seven, had no qualifications, no marketable talents apart from lying on his back, and completely dependent on someone who barely knew him and for the most part didn't like him.

But Potter had come for him, when he didn't have to. And Draco couldn't for the life of him work out why. Maybe it was his over-active Saviour complex acting up again. Whatever it was, Draco had to hope it lasted long enough for him to sort himself out. However, at the rate he was going, Potter was going to kick him out by the end of the week, and then he'd have to go back to France or risk the boss getting his hands on him-

"Papa?"

He sat up instantly, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed as Scorpius pushed the door open the rest of the way and edged into the room. Draco smiled weakly and held out a hand as Scorpius approached, firmly pushing away his maudlin thoughts. Thinking about his predicament could wait for now, whereas Scorpius couldn't.

"Hello brat. Bored of lego?"

Scorpius shook his head, walking over to Draco and standing on his feet, grabbing hold of Draco's shirt to keep his balance.

"J'ai entendu du bruit."

Draco smiled, running his hand over Scorpius's head. "That's Potter. He makes a lot of noise, you'll get used to it."

"Potter?" Scorpius wrinkled his nose.

"Harry," Draco amended with an expression to match. "He likes to be loud."

"Il t'a crié dessus," Scorpius said matter-of-factly, but Draco recognised the concern for what it was.

"He shouted at me because I was being silly," he said, hauling Scorpius up onto his knee. Scorpius knelt on Draco's thighs, his arms tight around his neck and his cheek pressed to Draco's.

"Tu n'es pas stupide," Scorpius said and Draco laughed.

"I am. As silly as you," he said and Scorpius giggled too, bending his knees and swinging around Draco's neck. Draco smiled and held him tight, already feeling calmer and more at peace with the small body in his arms. Loving Scorpius was easy; unconditional and fierce, and something no-one could take away. He thought he could face being anywhere as long as Scorpius was with him, even stuck in limbo with Harry sodding Potter.

"Hungry?" he asked, trying to gently push Scorpius back a little; his neck was starting to hurt.

"Oui. Harry says he is making spaghetti," Scorpius said, making it sound like an announcement. He pulled back, placing his palms on Draco's cheeks, smiling when Draco leant in and rubbed their noses together.

"Go on then," Draco said gently. "Spaghetti awaits."

Scorpius shook his head violently, tightening his grip around Draco's neck again. "Non," he said, the tiniest hint of a whine evident in his tone. "Come with me."

"I thought you liked Harry," Draco said with a frown.

"You," Scorpius said and Draco sighed. He didn't want to see Potter, especially not after the awkward touching incident, but at the end of the day Scorpius came first. A small part of him found relief in the fact that Scorpius still liked him more, despite Harry apparently being the best thing since lego.

Besides, now he wasn't completely smashed and could think, he was starting to feel guilty about his lack of interaction with Scorpius. He'd spent far too long drinking and feeling sorry for himself, and he had to pack it in. Also, sitting alone and brooding over the fact that Scorpius liked spending time with Potter more than he did Draco was probably rather counter-productive. If Draco were with Scorpius, then he wouldn't be alone with Potter and wouldn't start liking Potter more than he did Draco.

"Alright," he caved and stood up, grabbing Scorpius and swinging him around and making him squeal.

Draco laughed and tossed Scorpius over his shoulder, one hand on his back. "You're like a wriggly worm," he said, walking out of the room and catching one of Scorpius's flailing feet in his hands. "A heavy wriggly worm."

"I'm not heavy," Scorpius gasped through his laughter. "Papa!"

"Sorry, I don't speak worm," Draco said as he carefully navigated the stairs, one hand on Scorpius and the other on the bannister.

"Je ne suis pas un ver! I'm not a worm!"

"You are. Careful that Potter doesn't mistake you for spaghetti and serve you with meatballs."

They reached the bottom of the stairs with Scorpius was laughing unstoppably as Draco slid him off his shoulder to carry him on his hip. "No," he laughed, pushing at Draco's collarbones. "You're a worm. You're a big fat worm."

"Yes, who has a little baby worm called Scorpius," Draco grinned, walking across the hall and walking through the open door to the kitchen, through which the delicious smells of cooking were wafting promisingly.

"Non! Tu es un ver!" Scorpius insisted through his laughter, pulling hard on the collar of Draco's shirt. "Papa!"

Draco laughed and pulled Scorpius's hand away, glancing up as he did so. He froze in place, his smile sliding off his face as he saw Potter standing by the Aga at the far end of the kitchen. Harry was also stuck in place, one hand holding the end of a wooden spoon that was sticking out of a saucepan of something or other, not moving. On his face was a peculiar expression, a careful look of wonder like he'd never seen Draco before. Draco swallowed and held his gaze, wondering why Potter was staring at him all wide-eyed and curious.

"Papa!" Scorpius said loudly, kicking at Draco's thighs and pulling at his shirt again. "I'm not a worm!"

"Right," Draco said distractedly, the kick breaking the moment between him and Potter. He looked back to Scorpius. "Not a worm," he said and let Scorpius slither down his side to the floor. He tried to collect himself, running a hand over his head and trying to work out why he felt so flustered. "You want juice?"

"Oui," Scorpius said, walking over to the table and tugging at chair.

Draco looked up, trying to work out what he had to do next. "Er, right."

"In the fridge," Potter said unnecessarily, and Draco looked up sharply. Potter was still watching him, but now there was the small hint of a soft smile on his face.

"Not an idiot," Draco replied, feeling his cheekbones flush and making his feet move. Still acutely aware of Potter's eyes on him, he strode over to the fridge and found the carton of juice, instinctively going for his wand to summon a cup and then cursing when he remembered he didn't have it. He resigned himself to having to fetch a cup by hand, edging past Potter who had turned his attention back to the food.

Stomach rumbling, Draco grabbed two cups and edged back over to the countertop next to the fridge, pouring out the juice before walking back over to Scorpius, who was kneeling on his chair with his elbows on his table.

"Look," Scorpius said as Draco set their cups on the table and slid into the seat next to him. Draco looked over and smiled tiredly as Scorpius bunched his hand into a fist in front of his face, poking out his finger and wiggling it in the air.

"A worm," Scorpius said, and Draco leant over and grabbed his hand, pretending to bite at Scorpius's finger.

"Spaghetti," he said and Scorpius giggled, tucking his finger safely back away in his fist.

"Are you eating with us?"

Potter sounded surprised and Draco didn't blame him. He hesitated but as he felt Scorpius reach over and pull at his fingers, he sighed.

"Yes," he said, offering no further explanation. "If you'll have me down here," he added, remembering Potter's earlier anger at him and feeling a knot in his stomach.

"Course," Potter said simply, and Draco dared to look up at him but he'd turned back to cooking. Draco watched him for a moment, pondering over how bloody domesticated Potter seemed. He noticed that Potter was cooking without much magical aid as well, and filed the observation away in his mind.

It was awkward. Scorpius was happy next to him, chattering away in English and occasional words of French, self-involved enough to let Draco nod and 'mm' in agreement every so often. Even his presence couldn't quite shift Draco's sense of unease, his feeling that he was being observed and appraised. He wanted to be able to fall back into the easy playfulness he had with Scorpius, but with Potter looking at him like that, he was self-aware in a strange way he hadn't been in a long time.

"Here we go."

Potter's voice and the thud of plates atop the tabletop roused Draco from his thoughts. He blinked and watched as Potter waved his wand to summon cutlery, dividing it neatly between the three of them. A plate of steaming hot spaghetti and meatballs slid in front of him and he found his mouth watering. He'd never admit it out loud, but damn Potter could cook.

"What's spaghetti in French then?" Potter asked as he slid into a chair opposite Draco and Scorpius. Scorpius, who was happily twisting spaghetti around his fork – with only a little help from his fingers, Draco noted with fond exasperation – looked up and frowned.

"Spaghetti," he said, and Potter nodded.

"Yeah. How do you say it in French?"

Scorpius wrinkled his nose and looked up to Draco, who bit back a laugh. He looked up to see Potter looking confused.

"Spaghetti," he said carefully and deliberately, and Potter's frown grew.

"Yeah that's what…" his frown disappeared, replaced with an amused and slightly sheepish smile. "It's the same isn't it?"

Draco nodded and Scorpius grinned. "Spaghetti. Ça ressemble à des vers de terre."

Draco didn't bother to reprimand him; Potter had no idea what he was saying so there was no cause to tell him off for talking about worms at the dinner table. Anyway, he didn't want to say anything, not quite trusting his voice to stay steady. He wanted to eat his meal downstairs to keep Scorpius happy, and then vanish away to his room.

He internally despaired at the realisation that he was thinking of it as _his_ room. Potter could kick him out tomorrow, there was no his about it.

"Papa," Scorpius said, pulling at Draco's elbow. "Can I have more juice?"

Draco barely had time to nod before Potter stood up across the table, putting his fork down. "I'll get it," he said through his mouthful.

Draco stood up so quickly that Potter faltered. "I can manage to fetch juice," he said, his tone carefully constructed to tell Potter to back off whilst not alarming Scorpius.

Potter swallowed and eyed Draco evenly across the table. "I know," he said, and Draco almost suspected his gentle tone was genuine. "I never said you couldn't."

"Well then can you let me take care of my son?" Draco asked through gritted teeth, hating that Potter thought he wasn't capable of being a decent father.

They stood still for a long moment and then to his surprise, Harry sat back down. He laughed, rubbing his brow with his fingers. "You make being a good host very hard some days."

Draco was a little taken aback. He hadn't considered that Potter wasn't trying to be an overbearing prick, just trying to do what he'd promised and look after Draco and Scorpius. Harry looked back up and as Draco saw the expectant expression he realised Potter was waiting for an answer.

"You sometimes come across as a bit of a controlling host," he said slowly and carefully, walking over to the worktop and picking up the carton of juice. He turned back around to see Harry scrutinizing him, slowly chewing on another mouthful. He swallowed and Draco's eyes flicked to his throat as it moved.

"You're hard to gauge," Harry said finally, looking down at his meal. "You don't communicate. So I don't know how much you can or want to do. I'm only trying to help."

Draco didn't reply. He pushed away from the counter and sat back in his seat, filling up Scorpius's cup and going back to his own meal. He concentrated on eating, trying to un-mix the confusing jumble of feelings inside his chest. He didn't trust anyone but himself, so no wonder this situation was so hard. Was Potter trying to be a bastard or was he genuinely just a victim of his overgrown hero-complex?

"When is Al coming back?"

He carried on eating as Scorpius spoke, knowing the question wasn't directed at him. It was hard to do; his instinct was to keep everyone away from Scorpius, but talking to other people was good for him. Never mind if the only available other people were Potters.

"Day after tomorrow," Harry said. "James is coming too."

"Can we all play lego?"

Harry laughed and Draco wished he wouldn't. "Course."

Draco clenched his hand around his fork and suddenly wished he'd drowned in that damn fountain Potter had pulled him out of. He stood up unsteadily, pushing his plate away.

"Papa! You haven't eaten all of your spaghetti!"

Draco ignored the voice and turned on his heel, fleeing from the kitchen. He couldn't do it. He couldn't sit there with Potter and Scorpius and eat dinner like they were some sort of - of _family_. They hated each other. He didn't belong here. He didn't belong anywhere. The moment his foot was on the stairs he felt his heart clench and his eyes prickle; guilt at leaving Scorpius cutting through him and making him feel hot and uncomfortable. God, he was awful at this, he just didn't know how to get on with people.

He slipped into his room and shut the door, leaning back on it and shutting his eyes, swallowing back his tears.

Just wonderful. Twenty-seven years old and still a complete coward.


	11. Chapter 11

_**AN:** Oh merry Merlin, is it Thursday again? Sorry for being almost too late. Life is manic. Wibble._

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

Breathing out deeply and wiping his hands on the dishtowel slung over his shoulder, Harry leant against the doorframe to the creatively dubbed 'sofa room,' otherwise known to the adults as the living room. As per usual, the television was still talking to itself, bathing the room with gently flickering light and murmuring in the background. He smiled wanly and stepped forwards, hands in his pockets as he took in the scene before him.

Scorpius was curled up at one end of the sofa, leant against the arm cushions and clearly fast asleep. What was making Harry smile was the row of 'friends' Scorpius had lined up alongside him on the sofa, all diligently facing the television. An old battered stuffed dragon sat at the far end of the sofa, accompanied by a wind up penguin, a one-eyed unicorn and an Optimus Prime transformer toy.

As he quietly watched him, Harry was once again struck with how normal Scorpius seemed; random outbursts of French and odd knowing glances aside. His belief that Draco wasn't doing too terrible a job as a father had been compounded earlier that day as he'd heard their conversation about worms and seen Draco's smile as he teased his son.

He'd been a little taken aback at seeing that side of Draco, and it seemed Draco had been startled at being caught out too. It was as if all his guards had gone down, letting Harry have a glimpse at the person that he could be, if he would just stop being such an arsehole.

Unfortunately, Harry's brain quite liked that person that he'd had a glimpse of. Refusing to give in and think about Draco like that hadn't been as successful as he'd hoped; Harry had hoped that not thinking about it would make the thought go away. It hadn't. In fact, it had grown more insistent, almost demanding that Harry give in and admit that he might be somehow a teensy bit attracted to Draco. Only a teensy bit though, and only because Draco somehow seemed to fit the mould of Harry's 'type,' if he even had one at all; tall, slender, blond, and with enough attitude to keep Harry on his toes. Well, Draco had a surplus of attitude, but that wasn't the point.

Aside from Draco's physical attributes, Harry worryingly found himself also fixating on that small glimpse he'd had of Draco earlier that day, somehow wishing that he would be more like that more often. To maybe think he was fit was one thing, but starting to like him in terms of a person? That was complicated. Dangerous. Tempting.

At least Draco was still for the most part behaving like a bloody nutcase. It was hard to feel attracted to someone acting like a twenty-seven year old brat. At first Harry had been furious that Draco had gotten up and left in the middle of the meal without so much as an excuse or apology, but after he'd noticed Scorpius didn't seem overly bothered, he'd calmed himself down. At least Draco had tried. Making it halfway through a meal was probably a miracle. And the fact he'd said a sentence that wasn't a shout or an insult should also have probably been considered progress.

Harry pushed away from the doorframe and walked over to Scorpius, watching him for a moment. He had an unwritten rule that kids should have a proper bed to sleep in, and Scorpius was no exception. Hopefully Harry could carry him to the bed he'd set up for him in Al's room without waking him up, but he seemed to only want to sleep in it if Al was there too. Otherwise he crept out and spent the night tucked in with Draco. Maybe he just didn't like being alone. Harry wasn't sure.

His mind drifted back to the argument earlier, the tense stand-off he and Draco had had over juice of all things. Why was Draco being so uptight? Harry was only trying to help. Surely now the initial shock of being in Harry's house had worn off, Draco should just be happy that he and Scorpius were safe?

The answer came to him effortlessly, as if he had known all along and had been waiting for the right moment to acknowledge it. As he looked over at the mantelpiece, eyes on the picture of him with James and Al, he suddenly realised that he and Draco had much more in common than he'd ever thought. Maybe they even had mutual experience of one particular thing, which would explain Draco's terrible attitude and awkwardness.

A memory stirred in Harry's mind and he blinked, remembering the first time he'd flooed to Ginny's after she and Neville had been married. He'd known about them, of course he had, but they'd been discreet and for the most part, Neville had kept well out of Harry's way. But after the wedding – which Harry hadn't gone to – things had changed. Neville had moved in with Ginny, had started joining the lads in the pub again. It seemed that the wedding had almost given Neville a sense of validation, enough so that he no longer fretted over what Harry or the others might say about him being involved with Ginny.

As awful as it was to admit, Harry hadn't really cared about Neville and Ginny and could probably have saved a lot of hassle if he'd told Neville that from the start. He'd been relieved more than anything, and unable to summon any jealousy or ill-will towards his old dorm-mate. No, what Harry remembered was stepping through that damn fireplace and then feeling something terrible in his chest at the sight of Neville sat serving dinner to Al and James, who were smiling and laughing and taking way too long to notice that Harry had arrived.

He'd never known jealousy like it in his life. It had been horrible because technically no-one was doing anything wrong, but he'd still wanted to steal his kids away from Neville and Ginny and keep them all to himself. He'd been awkward, obstinate and over-protective, simply scared that his kids wouldn't love him as much now there was someone else to look after them…

…which was probably exactly how Draco was feeling right now.

"Shit," Harry muttered, running his hands through his hair. Ginny was right; he could be so bloody self-centred when the mood took him. It was obvious now, that maybe Draco wasn't being a twat for the sake of it – well, not much anyway - but rather being concerned about and ridiculously protective over Scorpius, hating seeing someone else stepping on his toes to care for his child. And especially Harry – Draco probably still had a complex from Harry beating him at everything at school, so Harry wading in to take care of Scorpius probably wasn't helping. God, Draco probably thought Harry was going to steal him away or something, considering he was technically part of the Ministry and knew what Draco was…

God he was a plank. Draco had more issues than Harry and his family put together, he couldn't just forget that and expect Draco to immediately behave like a reasonable human being. And if Harry wanted him and Draco to make any headway, he had to do right by Scorpius. And that didn't just mean taking care of him; it meant taking care of him whilst letting Draco still be in charge.

But how to do that was another issue altogether. If he tried to talk to him, Draco would probably bite his head off, and then Harry would snap back and they would fight all over again. Yes, they had managed whole sentences that were nearly civil earlier, but Harry wasn't going to trust that things would stay that way. No, he had to think of something else.

He took a step closer to the sofa, smiling weakly as he looked at Scorpius's quietly sleeping form. Carefully, he leant over and picked Scorpius up, shushing him as Scorpius stirred sleepily, a whimper in the back of his throat.

"Shh, it's okay. Just me," Harry soothed as Scorpius wound an arm around his neck and buried his face in Harry's shoulder. "Bedtime, mate."

"Papa," Scorpius said tiredly, his voice thick with sleep. Harry smiled briefly and hitched Scorpius up into his arms and left the sofa-room. He was about to turn left and take Scorpius to the bed he'd set up for him in Al's room, but something stopped him. Pausing, he looked the other way, eyes on the door to the spare room.

Without really thinking about it or fully aware that he'd made a decision, Harry padded slowly along the landing to the spare room, somehow just knowing that this was the right thing to do. Leaning back slightly to balance Scorpius, he knocked on the door and then pushed it with his shoulder, hoping it wasn't locked.

It wasn't; it opened as he rested his weight against the wood, slithering softly over the carpet beneath. Draco looked up instantly from where he was sat on his bed, a book resting on his knee. His gaze flickered over Harry and Scorpius and after a moment of open panic and fear, his face shuttered and he stood up, jaw clenched tightly.

"Thought he'd prefer to kip with you," Harry said, his voice low and hoping Draco would understand. It was a peace-offering; the only way that Harry could show Draco that he'd back off.

The surprise was clear on Draco's face, as was the suspicion. He stared at Harry as it expecting a trick or some sort of trap, his eyes wary. He took an experimental step forwards and then as Harry didn't do anything but stand there and wait, he nodded and walked over. As he reached them, his eyes flickered over Harry and then Scorpius, and then he held out his arms.

Harry stepped closer and eased Scorpius over, not failing to miss how close he and Draco got as he did it. Their shoulders brushed and he felt Draco's elbow press gently into his chest, and he held his breath until Scorpius was safely in Draco's arms and he could step back. He led his breath out as Draco hitched Scorpius up, resting a hand on the back of his head and shushing him gently just as Harry had done.

"Va dormir, trésor," Draco murmured into Scorpius's hair, before turning grey eyes on Harry. He looked calm, almost grateful, as if he knew exactly why Harry had bought Scorpius to him.

He watched Harry for a moment and then quietly said something Harry had never expected to hear from him, and definitely not twice in a lifetime.

"Thank you."

Harry's breath hitched, and then he nodded and backed away. Draco watched him step back before turning away.

Even though he knew he should just leave, Harry couldn't help but hover as Draco laid Scorpius down on the bed, watching how careful and gentle Draco was and knowing he was exactly the same with his own boys. Distractedly, he watched the curve of Draco's spine under his T-shirt as he bent over, eyes trailing down across his arse and then down his legs. Just before his eyes made the return journey he caught himself and swore internally, dragging his eyes away.

"Go away, Potter," Draco said softly, and Harry started. He swallowed thickly and then retreated out of the room, shutting the door gently behind him, stepping away and pressing his fingertips to his mouth.

Taking Scorpius to Draco had been a gamble, but it seemed it had paid off. Draco could have snapped and read into the situation the wrong way, as he normally seemed to do, but he hadn't. He had understood Harry's simple message, and maybe even appreciated it.

Harry made his feet move again and walked away from Draco's room – the guest room - and went to turn the television off before padding up to his own room on the top floor of the house. That moment with Draco, handing Scorpius over…it had stirred feelings in his chest that he'd almost forgotten about, in more ways than one. He'd all but forgotten what it felt like to fancy someone; he'd been so busy with the kids and work he'd not had close to enough time to chase any romantic liaisons.

Aside from the dilemma of catching himself looking at Draco's arse, Harry found himself thinking about other things as well. The idea of sharing responsibility with someone had been almost forgotten too; he and Ginny had cared for James together for a couple of years but then when Harry had admitted he was gay everything had changed. Al and James had gone to live with Ginny, Harry had been a mess for twelve months, and then after that he'd been alone. Well, not completely alone, but when the kids were there he'd look after them by himself without anyone else by his side.

God, Scorpius wasn't even his kid, yet he found the brief moment of shared responsibility between him and Draco helplessly wonderful. It was ridiculous; he was probably just starved of affection or something.

He climbed the steps to his bedroom and kicked the door shut, collapsing down onto his bed, not bothering to take his glasses off. His body felt tired but his mind was still wide-wake, thoughts circling around touching Draco and caring for Scorpius and how when Draco had told him to go away, he hadn't sounded angry or upset or like he really meant it in the slightest.

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><p>Yawning widely, Harry scratched his hip with one hand whilst pouring himself a cup of tea with the other. He'd had a restless night sleep, trying not to think about Draco and wondering when he'd next be able to see his children. He knew that he wasn't due to have them until tomorrow, but the situation he'd found himself tied up in was making him anxious. Being home from work didn't help, either; he was already bored and restless without having anything outside the house to focus on.<p>

He rubbed his face, trying to wake himself up a little. He was only thankful that Scorpius seemed to have as dodgy a sleeping pattern as Draco; unlike Al and James he never seemed to be up very early. As it were, it had reached almost eleven o' clock and Harry was yet to acknowledge sight or sound of either of the Malfoys.

As he added sugar to his tea he debated whether the almost truce he and Draco had appeared to have formed the night before would let him get away with waking him up so he could have some company. He decided against it rather quickly: he suspected that even though the moment had felt like a huge achievement, Draco wouldn't appreciate a wake-up call at any time of the day.

He picked his wand up and waved it towards the radio, turning it on and lowering the volume, wanting some quiet noise in the background. Humming along, he stood leaning against the worktop and gazing absent-mindedly out of the window at the far end of the room. Hopefully he and Draco could stop fighting now, and then maybe Draco would talk to him about the mess he'd ended up in. What with the moment last night and Harry's worrying thoughts concerning Draco's proximity and attractiveness, he'd almost forgotten that he was supposed to be trying to get him to talk about the Hightops crime ring. That was a point, he should go in and tell someone what Draco had said about the Aurors-

"I said no."

Harry paused as he heard an exasperated voice drift from the open kitchen door, clearly audible over the low volume of the radio.

"Papa-"

"No, Scorpius. You've got your own legs, use them."

Harry bit back a grin as he realised what the disagreement he could hear was about. It wasn't the fact that Draco and Scorpius were having an argument that made him smile, rather because the conversation was a familiar one that Harry and Al seemed to be having an awful lot lately.

"Je suis fatigué," Scorpius whined, his voice bordering on tearful.

"You are not tired, you only just woke up," Draco said, sounding frustrated. "Oh for-"

He cut himself off mid-sentence and Harry schooled his face into a more neutral expression as Draco came in, carrying Scorpius in his arms. Scorpius was clinging to his chest with his arms around Draco's neck and his legs around his middle, sniffling fitfully but not quite crying. Harry couldn't help but notice Draco had finally changed out of his own black jeans and shirt and was instead wearing a grey T-shirt and jogging bottoms that Harry had left for him. A strange feeling stole through his stomach at the sight of Draco in his clothes, and he bit his lip, deciding to neither comment on the outfit nor admit to Draco the clothes were actually his.

"Morning," Harry said, and Draco's eyes flicked up to his. He froze, looking initially frustrated and embarrassed about Scorpius's behaviour, but beyond that he seemed confused. He looked genuinely torn, as if he couldn't decide how to behave or what to think. It was if the moment last night had changed the dynamic between them, but neither of them could work out exactly how things should be now it had changed.

"Morning," Draco finally said stiffly, still hovering as if he couldn't bring himself to either sit down or walk away. He hitched Scorpius up and bit his lip, still uncertain.

"Let me guess," Harry finally said, unable to bear the awkward tension anymore. Draco looked up at him, expression wary as if expecting a cutting remark. "The wonderful 'carry me everywhere' phase?" Harry continued with a wan smile. "Al's the same."

Draco eyed him for a moment and then nodded slowly. "He has his moments."

"Don't they all," Harry said, and paused. "You want tea?"

There was another long pause, a hesitant moment as Harry waited for Draco to answer. The previous hostility had definitely gone; the desire to fight had apparently been lost somewhere along the line. Harry certainly hadn't anticipated just how awkward things would be now he'd made a move towards a truce, though he supposed they would be hard pressed to suddenly start getting on. Finally, just when Harry was about at breaking point, the silence was broken.

"Je veux du thé," Scorpius's hopeful voice piped up.

"Tough," Draco said, and the uncomfortable moment passed by as he moved to sit down with Scorpius still clinging onto him. "Tea is for grown-ups. Not little babies who can't walk by themselves."

"Je ne suis pas un bébé," Scorpius whined.

"Well then stop acting like it," Draco replied tiredly, reaching over and pulling the chair next to him out. "Come on."

"No," Scorpius wailed, holding onto him even tighter. "Je veux pas, je veux pas, je veux du thé et je veux rester avec toi -"

"Scorpius!" Draco tried, his voice full of badly concealed frustration. "Christ, what is wrong with you today?"

"Je ne veux pas que tu partes, je ne veux pas être tout seul -"

"I'm not going anywhere," Draco said, his tone turning slightly more patient in an instant, gentler and lower. "Calm down, you'll give yourself a headache."

Running a hand down Scorpius's back, he looked up to Harry, his expression helpless and still slightly frustrated. Harry looked back and in that moment something passed between them, a shared understanding of what it was like to be caring for a child by yourself, the horrible feeling you got deep in your chest when they were upset and you couldn't seem to fix it. Their eyes met for a long moment, gazes more honest and understanding than they had ever been before, and then Draco swallowed thickly and turned his attention back to Scorpius, sighing and gently murmuring to him.

"Stop crying and you can have some tea with me. I'm not going anywhere, calm down and stop being silly."

Scorpius's noisy cries turned into sniffles and hiccups, punctuated with small whines. Harry wished that he understood French so he could fully understand why Scorpius was so upset, wanting to help. Actually, maybe it was a good thing that he couldn't understand; if he tried to help he'd probably be stepping on Draco's toes and would wind him up all over again.

"Tea?" he quietly asked instead. Draco looked up, looking exhausted. His eyes searched Harry's for a long moment, and then he nodded.

Harry nodded in reply and summoned another mug, feeling a flash of guilt as he remembered he still had Draco's wand. He pushed it away, reminding himself it was for the greater good that he'd taken it. It was too early to give it back yet, even if it did appear that the fighting had stopped. He poured another cup of tea, added milk and sugar without even thinking about it, cursed under his breath and then decided it didn't matter. He turned and passed the tea over to Draco, who took it carefully, setting it down on the table in front of him.

"There. Tea for me and you," Draco said, and Scorpius lifted his head away from his shoulder, wiping his face with his hand.

Harry watched as Draco picked the cup up, holding it steady as Scorpius took a sip, small hands guiding Draco's. Draco watched him carefully, still sitting tense as if he were expecting more tears. When none came, Draco's shoulders relaxed and he leant back a little in his chair, looking more at ease but at the same time completely knackered.

Wordlessly, Harry flicked his wand and summoned a box of tissues from the far end of the room, sending them to settle gently in front of Draco. Draco looked surprised for a moment, but then nodded at Harry again, reaching out to grab a handful of tissues with his free hand.

"Here," he said, moving the mug away. He quickly wiped Scorpius's face, ignoring the protests, and then tossed the tissues onto the table, letting Scorpius have the tea back. After a long while, his eyes lifted to Harry's again, looking troubled.

"Why are you being so nice?" he finally asked bluntly. "Last night. What was all that about?"

He trailed off and Harry shrugged. "I figured he'd settle better with you. And besides, he's yours, which means you're in charge," he said honestly. "I'm here to help and it's my house my rules, but you're the boss concerning him."

Draco looked startled for a moment at Harry's blatant admission, but moments later his troubled frown returned.

"I thought you'd got me pegged as an unfit parent," Draco said, and looked up as Harry laughed in surprise. "What?" he asked defensively.

Harry shook his head. "I think you're a lot of things, but a bad parent isn't one of them."

It was Draco's turn to be surprised. He opened his mouth and shut it again, and a dull flush spread across his cheeks. "I hate to think what the other things are," he finally said.

"You know," Harry said simply, and Draco looked up sharply. "I don't have any hidden agendas here. You are…what you are."

"And you suddenly don't have a problem with that?" Draco asked sceptically.

"It's the situation I have a problem with, not you," Harry said. Draco's eyebrows flew up and he stared at Harry for a long moment. Harry looked back, hoping that Draco would believe him.

"Papa."

Draco looked down distractedly as Scorpius pushed the mug of tea away from him. He took it and set it atop the table.

"Can I please have cereal?"

Draco smiled tiredly, running a hand over Scorpius's head. "If you sit on your own chair so I can get it."

Scorpius hesitated but Draco waited it out; he sat perfectly still until Scorpius complied, climbing off of Draco's knee and shifting onto his own chair. "Merci," Draco said pointedly, pushing the chair in before getting up. He walked over to the far end of the kitchen, reaching up to grab the box of cereal from atop the cupboard. As he did, his t-shirt rode up and Harry glimpsed the pale skin of his back for a tantalizing second. His pulse skipped and he hastily turned away, taking a gulp of his tea to distract himself. No, he would not catch himself looking at Draco in that way twice in less than twenty-four hours-

"Potter?"

Harry nearly choked on his mouthful, but managed to swallow it. Convinced he'd been caught looking, he cleared his throat, straightening his glasses.

"Yeah?"

He turned around and saw with relief that Draco hadn't caught him out; he was still facing the back wall, fiddling with the edge of the cereal box. "Just so we're clear, I'd never do anything to put him in harm's way," he said stiffly. "Everything – I put him first."

"I know," Harry said honestly. Draco nodded curtly and then set about getting Scorpius his breakfast. As he went to the fridge for milk, he hesitated and then turned to Harry again.

"And," he said and then faltered. He reached up to pull nervously at one of the studs in his ears, and Harry did not find that oddly endearing in the slightest. "I wanted to say…yeah. Well, just…"

Harry stared at him a moment and then as he watched Draco shift awkwardly from foot to foot, he realised that Draco was trying to say thank you. Again. The corner of his mouth hitched in an almost smile. "You're welcome."

Draco blinked at him, as if confused as to how Harry had known what he was trying to say. Harry attempted a small smile and in return Draco's mouth twitched in an echo of a relieved smile before turning back to Scorpius without another word.

Harry drained his own mug and sent it over to the sink, before leaving the kitchen. No sense in hovering and pushing his luck with Draco, not when they were getting on better than he could ever have anticipated. No, he would go and make sure James's room was ready for tomorrow, sort out the state that the washing basket had become and valiantly attempt not to think about how smooth and touchable the skin of Draco's back had looked.


	12. Chapter 12

_**AN**: The only excuse I have for this being a day late is that I forgot what day of the week it was._

**Chapter 12**

"Look, and the araignée climbs up the walls-"

Draco smiled tiredly. "Spider," he said as he watched Scorpius making the small toy spider he'd found in the toybox climb up the wall of the lego structure that was apparently supposed to be a castle. "Say spider."

Scorpius wrinkled his nose. "C'est une araignée."

"English please," Draco said firmly, rolling off his stomach to lie on his side, leaning on his elbow and propping his head on his fist. "Your new friend doesn't understand French, so you've got to get into the habit of saying it in English."

"I can teach him," Scorpius said brightly and Draco smiled.

"I'm sure you can."

"And Harry," Scorpius said, passing Draco the spider. "Then you can talk to him."

Draco shook his head in amusement, turning the spider over in his fingers, watching as Scorpius picked up a plastic unicorn and made it trot up the walls instead. As he observed, he idly wondered why he'd taken to encouraging Scorpius to communicate with the Potter-spawn. His smile faded a little as he thought of how few people Scorpius had ever met, and knowing that he wouldn't begrudge Scorpius the chance to make new friends. Besides, the one small Potter child he'd met hadn't seemed that bad. Come to think of it, the elder Potter didn't seem all that bad now he'd calmed the fuck down.

He didn't know if he'd done anything to elicit such a response, of if Potter had just had an epiphany or been knocked on the head or something, but Potter's attitude towards him had definitely mellowed. The frustration was gone, the constant aura of a brewing argument had disappeared, as had the overbearing stubbornness. Maybe it wasn't really all down to Harry, and had needed both of them to back down for them to get along. Draco rubbed at his forehead, feeling worn by his constant deliberating.

What he were most confused about was the missing interrogation he'd been expecting since he'd arrived at Potter's house. He suspected Potter knew what he was mixed up with, which begged the question of why Potter wasn't playing good Auror and trying to get Draco to tell what he knew. Not that it'd be useful, but he'd still expected Potter to try.

No, all that had happened was that Potter had been…nice. Well, mostly, if Draco ignored the occasional shouting and that one incident with Potter shoving him against the wall. Instead of treating Draco like a suspect or prisoner Harry had fed him, let him have free reign of the house, had continued to slip healing potions into the en-suite bathroom and even provided Draco with a selection of clean clothes to wear. All of which made Draco feel slightly guilty about his previous terrible behaviour, although he supposed he couldn't be blamed entirely for being scared and defensive.

Maybe Potter had realised that he was just scared, he mused. He didn't really want Potter thinking that he was just still a complete twat. Fuck, he might be for all he knew, he'd not had any chances to interact with people and try out being decent. He might be brilliant at it if he gave himself a chance.

He looked up, idly watching the mobile that hung from the ceiling. He smiled as one of the dragons noticed him watching and flapped its wings proudly, making the mobile swing and the other dragons grumble as they were woken by the motion. He remembered having something similar when he was younger, although the dragons on his mobile had been silver and fewer in number.

It really was a wonderful bedroom for a kid, Draco thought somewhat grudgingly, not quite willing to give Potter credit even in his head. It was bright, cheerful and comfortable, full of toys and books yet not a complete tip. His eyes drifted over the bed on the far side of the room near the window, the bed that Scorpius had eagerly introduced as his own. The bed for the youngest Potter child was on the other side of the room nearer the door, complete with a matching duvet and pillow set. It was strange to see, and Draco could help but think it was like a room brothers would share.

Like Al and Scorpius could ever be called brothers, he thought. They were as different in appearance as children could get really, just like he and Potter were.

"The spider is hungry," Scorpius announced, breaking Draco's train of thought. He leant forwards to snatch the toy back out of Draco's palm. "Very hungry."

Draco rolled his eyes, understanding that statement to mean that Scorpius was hungry as well as the spider. He sat up, stretching and wincing a little as he did. "Come on then, brat. Let's see what there is. Maybe Harry's concocted something for you already."

The name felt foreign on his tongue, unfamiliar and different. Wishing that Scorpius didn't mind when he said 'Potter,' Draco stood up, taking Scorpius's hand as he reached out, folding his small fingers securely in his own.

As they wandered down to the kitchen, his eyes drifted down the framed photographs on the wall. Most were of Harry and his kids, and Draco felt a small pang go through him as he remembered that he didn't have a single photograph of Scorpius. As well as the children, Draco recognised a few faces from school, Weasley and Granger quite predictably starring in a fair few.

They reached the bottom step and Draco's eyes followed the line of photos down to the very last one before the coat-rack took up the wall space. He recognised the four faces instantly and slowed to a stop, frowning slightly.

The photographic versions of Potter, Weasley, Longbottom and Finnigan all pulled faces at him and then creased up into laughter, Potter and Finnigan high-fiving like they were oh-so proud of themselves for acting like idiots. Draco barely spared them a glance; he was too busy looking at the figure on the end, who was laughing and leaning in to wave at whoever was taking the picture.

Longbottom.

Of course, Draco thought, taking a step forwards. How could he have forgotten? The papers had been all over it, nearly combusting with excitement to tell the story of how Neville Longbottom, decorated war hero, had swept Harry Potter's ex-wife off her feet and into the metaphorical sunset. They'd been married, too, Draco remembered as he peered at Longbottom's still slightly round face.

Which meant that Longbottom was stepdad to Potter's kids.

"Papa! Spider is hungry," Scorpius said, tugging on his hand. Draco allowed himself to be pulled along, tearing his eyes away from the photographic version of Longbottom. Shit, he'd been so wrapped up in his own little world that he hadn't really bothered to think about Potter's.

Suddenly, Potter's changed disposition and his actions the night before made so much more sense. Draco had understood that Potter bringing Scorpius to him had been a white-flag of sorts; Potter agreeing to back off after Draco had called him up on taking too much control at dinner. He had been so grateful for the gesture – not that he'd ever say it out loud – that he hadn't really bothered to wonder why Potter had suddenly changed his tune.

It was all clear now, though. Draco couldn't imagine having to make room for anyone else in Scorpius's life; in fact the mere thought made him feel hot and prickly and panicked. And here Potter was, having divorced his childhood sweetheart, stepping aside to let a school-friend become her new husband and the kids' stepfather…Christ, Draco had flipped out when Potter had tried to fetch Scorpius _juice_; Potter must have developed some serious self-control to manage to deal with the situation without aiming a crucio or two at Longbottom.

"Papa! Spider is star-ving!" Scorpius said again, his tone pleading. Draco mentally shook himself and tried to stop thinking and focus on finding some dinner.

"Starving, eh?" he said in reply to Scorpius as they walked into the kitchen. "So starving that he would eat flies for dinner?"

Scorpius shook his head fervently. "No. Spider likes spaghetti."

Draco laughed and then stopped abruptly as he saw what awaited them in the kitchen; on the table were two steaming plates of what appeared to be stir-fry, cutlery placed nearly beside and a small note between the plates. Wary, Draco edged forwards and picked up the note.

"What does it say?" Scorpius asked.

Draco laughed softly, something strange stealing through his stomach as he read the words written on the note. "Bon appetit."

Scorpius looked thrilled. "Harry speaks French!"

Draco couldn't help but smile, as exhausted as he was. He was still slightly stiff from the injuries he'd had when Potter has rescued him, still worried that Potter would turf them out, still worried about being found and the ramifications of disappearing, but to be honest he was currently more worried about the fact he was starting to like Potter.

He definitely needed a drink.

* * *

><p>Frowning, Harry added Adam Campbell to the list he was currently jotting in his notebook. Tapping his quill thoughtfully against his chin he crossed the name out, and then immediately rewrote it underneath. He counted the list of names, flipping back and forth between pages and then sighed, tossing his quill onto the coffee table and rubbing his eyes. That was over fifty people in the Auror department and beyond that had potential connections to Hightops, and Harry had no idea which of them could be playing on both sides of the law. In fact, the only two people he hadn't put on the list were himself and Ellis.<p>

He closed the notebook and tossed it aside as well, reaching for his bottle of beer instead. He looked over at the clock on the wall of the living room and saw it had just gone midnight. Fuck, he'd been deliberating over this for hours. Sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck, he decided to just sneak into work tomorrow morning and tell Ellis what Draco had said. He'd tell Kingsley as well, if he found him, but he somehow thought it might be easier to find anyone dodgy within the ranks of the Aurors by investigating from the side as well as the top.

Slumping back, he reached for the television remote and vowed to put it out of his mind. He could only wait for the morning to talk to Ellis, or talk to Draco and see if he knew anymore details about potential discrepancies within the Auror force. Talking to Draco was a risky business at the moment though, and Harry didn't want to push him now they were getting along better.

That train of thought led him inevitably back around to Draco. The moment in the kitchen earlier still intruded into his thoughts, as it had done for most of the day. He'd purposely stayed out of the way to prove his point that he could leave well alone, but it had been hard. He kept thinking about that open, naked look of helplessness Draco had sent his way whilst Scorpius had been crying; he still felt the urge to help and the incident had been hours ago. Of course he'd wanted to help Scorpius, but he'd also wanted to help Draco.

The situation had been made slightly more complicated as well, despite that on the surface it appeared that things were becoming simpler. Harry had conceded that he found Draco attractive, but he'd managed to curb those thoughts by remembering what a twat Draco was being. Now he wasn't being so awkward, Harry was admittedly finding it more and more difficult to push away the part of him that liked Draco.

A dull thud from somewhere along the corridor made him pause, television remote suspended in front of him. He paused again and then there was another bump, followed swiftly by several more, followed by a hefty thud and a curse. Harry was on his feet in seconds, wand immediately out of his pocket.

He edged out of the living room, eyes scanning the landing. The door to Draco's room was shut, as was the door to Al's.

"Fucking _ouch_."

Harry recognised Draco's voice easily. Shoving his wand back in his pocket, he strode along the landing and then stopped at the top of the stairs, half exasperated and half alarmed as he saw Draco lying on his back at the bottom of the stairs, limbs sprawled awkwardly.

"Have you fallen down the stairs?" Harry asked incredulously.

Draco's only response was another pained groan. Harry started down the stairs, suspicion growing with every step as he looked down on Draco's prone form. When he reached him he stepped nimbly over him and turned to kneel down beside him. Draco didn't look hurt; there was no blood and whilst he was lying awkwardly, nothing appeared to be broken or dislocated. In fact, Draco looked remarkably calm considering he'd just pitched himself down a staircase.

"Are you drunk?"

_"No_," Draco said emphatically, making no effort to get up. He blinked at Harry. "Maybe."

Indignant anger welled up in Harry's chest. "What the hell, Malfoy?" he asked, exasperated. "Can you not be sober for more than three consecutive days or something?"

Draco didn't bother to reply. Instead, he reached out unsteadily, groping thin air until his fingertips touched Harry's arms. Before Harry could move back, Draco's fingers curled around his upper arms and he hauled himself up into a sitting position, nearly tipping Harry over forwards in the process. Grabbing one of the banister railings to keep himself upright, Harry started as they nearly ended up nose to nose, alarmed at Draco's proximity. Draco didn't seem to mind, he just stared at Harry, looking slightly puzzled.

"I got confused because I like you," he finally said, frowning like Harry was a puzzle he just couldn't work out. "It's odd, really."

Harry gaped at him. "You got drunk because you were confused about liking me?"

Draco nodded slowly looking thoughtful. "It was easy when I didn't. And now I do. You're just so nice. And sickeningly hero-ish, but well."

Harry didn't dare move, even though Draco was far too close to be considered comfortable. His eyes were wide and oh-so grey, and Harry couldn't help but stare. All he could think of was just how grey they were, and how the normal course of action when someone was this close to your face was to kiss them. Even as the thought registered a prickle went down his spine, and his breath seemed to catch in his chest. God, Draco was so close, and Harry was still staring him in the eyes, wildly thinking that it had been so long since he'd kissed anyone that he'd probably forgotten how-

"Potter," Draco said, and the moment broke. Harry blinked and moved back fractionally, so he could see the whole of Draco's face rather than just being transfixed by his eyes. As he started to regain his mental faculties, he realised that he could smell something alcoholic on Draco's breath and wondered what he'd managed to steal out of the kitchen this time.

"What?" he asked carefully, still slightly unnerved at how Draco was. Not because Harry was still floundering about kissing, but because the last time they had been this close it had been a near-disaster. Harry was worried that if he moved or mentioned how close they were, Draco would realise they were touching and freak out again.

"Why haven't you chucked us out?" Draco breathed, eyes searching Harry's face for something. He swayed slightly, coming slightly closer to Harry again, so close that Harry could feel his breath on his face.

"Because that's not fair," Harry replied quietly, shaking his head and moving back, lest Draco sway right into him. Now the initial shock of coming nose to nose with Draco had faded, he felt oddly like Draco had let him down by drinking, disappointment sitting heavy in his gut. "Christ, Malfoy. Can you not just…get on with it without drinking everything you can find?"

"Could you?" Draco asked defiantly. Harry scowled and opened his mouth to retort, but he faltered before the words could even take form. He shut his mouth, the scowl sliding right off his face and something upsetting swirling in the pit of his stomach.

The truth was he probably couldn't. In fact he _knew_ that he wouldn't be able to cope with anything like this without drinking, which made him a complete hypocrite for tearing into Draco for it. Something must have showed on his face because Draco's eyes widened.

"You couldn't, could you?"

Harry shook his head slowly, remembering and swallowing painfully. Without wanting to, he was transported back to the moment just before Al was born. He remembered the argument that had broken out, Ginny screaming at him to either man up or get out, and the words that had slipped out of his mouth without permission. Ginny had demanded to know why Harry wouldn't look her in the eye, why he couldn't bring himself to hold her hand even though she was in labour with their child, and Harry could only think to tell her the truth, to tell her that he was gay.

They might all laugh about it now, but at the time it had been terrible. Ginny had been almost inconsolable, everyone had been so disappointed. Harry had been so angry and upset at himself that he'd turned to drinking, trying to forget what he'd done and how mad everyone was at him. Even Hermione had been disgusted with his behaviour and had told him as such on more than one occasion. The one time he'd had the audacity to complain to her about not getting to see James she'd nearly slapped him. He would have deserved it; she'd sharply reminded him that the last time he was supposed to see James he'd gone out with Seamus and got pissed instead. Thinking about that incident made shame curl through Harry's veins, deep in his heart and right down to the very tips of his toes. At least James had been too young to know how badly Harry had let him down, and fortunately for Harry no-one had mentioned it since.

"Potter?" Draco said, his gentle voice breaking Harry out of his daze.

"Yeah?" he asked unsteadily, eyes locked on Draco's and unable to look away. He felt strangely vulnerable that he'd admitted that he probably wouldn't cope without drinking either, and hoped that Draco wouldn't turn spiteful about it. But no, Draco was just watching him with sad eyes, like they understood each other again, looking almost concerned-

"I'm going to throw up," Draco said matter-of-factly.

Harry shook himself out of his stupor, moving into action instantly. He stood up and heaved Draco up, ignoring the yelp of protest as he did. He proceeded to half-lead, half-drag Draco up the stairs towards the bathroom, arms under Draco's and wrapped firmly around his chest.

"You throw up on my stairs and I kill you," he half-threatened, half-pleaded. "Please just get to the bathroom."

Draco didn't answer, but Harry didn't really care. They reached the top of the stairs and staggered across the landing, bypassing the spare room and going into the main bathroom. Harry let go of Draco who slithered down his side to the floor, before crawling across the floor, slumping against the side of the sink, leaning over towards the toilet.

Harry clicked on the light, and then winced as the room was bathed in bright clinical light. He drew his wand and waved it, muting the light into a softer yellow glow that didn't reflect so harshly off of the white tiles and porcelain in the room. Not that Draco would appreciate it, he thought as he glanced towards him.

He was a bit of a pitiful sight all in all, but now Harry couldn't just forget that he himself had been in the same position. In fact, he'd probably been in _exactly_ the same position, with Ron hovering worriedly in the doorway. Most of his anger towards Draco evaporated in sombre empathy, and he found that all that was left at that moment was an irritatingly insistent desire to care for him. God, how much more was he going to find that he and Draco had in common?

Harry sighed and crossed the room, squatting down beside Draco. "Where's Scorpius?" he asked quietly.

"Asleep," Draco slurred, opening one eye. "Safe. He's mine, you know."

Harry smiled wanly. "Make him all by yourself did you?"

Draco snorted with laughter, his head rolling on his shoulders. "Might as well have done."

Harry moved from crouching back on his heels to sitting down on his arse, crossing his legs. He wondered if Draco would be pliant enough to answer any questions he had about Scorpius without getting angry. He'd come to the conclusion that Draco was more of a friendly drunk than anything else, unless anyone tried to take Scorpius away, that was. With that in mind, he decided he could risk it. "Where's his mum?"

Draco shook his head lethargically. "Don't know. Don't care. They-" he paused, swallowing. "They wanted us to be married. Fuck. They were so mad about Scorpius," he laughed helplessly. "Apparently we weren't meant to sleep together."

"Right," Harry said cautiously. "Aren't you gay?"

Draco glared at him. "Who wants to know?"

Harry held up his hands in a gesture of capitulation and Draco's glare diminished. His head lolled back again, and he sighed loudly.

"Talking to Potter about my life," he said aloud. "Typical."

"Tell me about it," Harry muttered and Draco laughed, the sound echoing off of the tiled walls. Harry watched the smile that remained on Draco's face even as the laughter faded.

"It makes sense in a stupid way," he said contemplatively, and privately, Harry agreed. "Though I wish you'd stop saving me."

"Rather I didn't?" Harry asked quietly, and Draco's smile vanished. He stared at Harry for a long while, and then he slowly shook his head.

"No," he said, his voice barely audible and his eyes wide and honest. "I wouldn't. I just don't like that…"

Exactly what Draco didn't like was cut short as his eyes widened even further and he lurched forwards onto his knees, grabbing the edge of the toilet bowl and being violently sick.

"Shit!" Harry hastily edged forwards, putting one hand on Draco's back and feeling thankful that he'd at least got good aim.

"Christ," Draco said weakly, and then heaved again, Harry grabbing hold of his upper arm to keep him steady.

Harry grimaced as the sour smell of alcohol-tinged vomit hit his nostrils. "What the hell have you been drinking?"

"J-Jack," Draco managed before giving in to another bout of vomiting.

"Jack Daniels?" Harry asked in surprise when Draco had finished heaving. "I didn't even know there was any in the house."

"Pantry," Draco gasped, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "I was confused."

"So you said," Harry said, and leant up over Draco to flush the toilet. Draco slumped over sideways, fingers still curled around the rim of the toilet and his forehead resting on his knuckles.

"You're touching me," he mumbled, and Harry paused in place. Now Draco had said it he found himself acutely aware of his hand resting against Draco's back, his spine a gentle ridge under Harry's palm. He contemplated moving away, but even as he thought it he realised inexplicably that he just didn't want to. Instead, he slowly moved his hand, running his palm gently up Draco's spine.

"Yeah," he said softly.

"Thought you didn't like it," Draco said, his voice muffled.

"I don't mind."

Draco didn't reply. He made no move to edge away from Harry's touch so Harry stayed exactly where he was, gently rubbing Draco's back and thinking hard about what Draco had said about Scorpius's mother. Someone he was supposed to marry, but that he wasn't meant to sleep with, and people being angry about it? It didn't make much sense.

"Why do you want to know ab- about Scorpius?" Draco asked, a hiccup catching his breath.

Harry laughed shortly. "Apparently I have an innate desire to know what's going on with you. Ron and Luna say it's a life-debt thing."_ And a completely obsessed with you thing,_ he added mentally.

"Astoria," Draco murmured suddenly and Harry tensed. Who the hell was Astoria? Someone that Draco was thinking about? As if he'd read Harry's mind, Draco hiccupped again and then continued talking. "His mother," he said, lifting his head up and spitting into the toilet. "If you must know."

Ah. So they were back to this again, without Harry even having to ask. "I'd like to know," Harry said honestly.

Draco coughed out a laugh. "Because you're nosey," he said dismissively and then sighed. "When we went to France, Mother said I should marry, get back to normal and start sorting – sorting stuff out. They set me up with Astoria. We were only meant to talk, have tea and biscuits and all that shite."

"And you slept with her?" Harry asked cautiously.

Draco nodded before letting his forehead fall back to his knuckles. "Her idea. Had to see if I could before getting married."

"If you could?"

"I'm gay, idiot," Draco said without venom, answering the question he'd refused to not five minutes earlier. "She knew it, but she didn't care. She wanted a big house and kids. Why did you break up with girl-Weasley?"

Harry balked at the change in topic, instinctively wanting to tell Draco to shove off but knowing that it was only fair for the conversation to go both ways. "Things weren't right," he said evasively, wondering that Draco must not know about his sexuality if he were asking that question. It wasn't exactly a secret, though he had never openly confirmed or denied his sexuality to the press or general public. The newspapers had suggested on occasion that there may have been more to his sexual preferences that it first appeared, but then again, they'd also suggested that Harry had left Ginny for Hermione and Luna.

"So, you got a girl pregnant after sleeping with her once just to check you actually could?" he continued, hoping that Draco wouldn't notice the change in subject away from Harry's personal life back to his.

Draco nodded and thankfully didn't make comment in the turnabout in topic. "The silly bitch told on me, even though it was her idea anyway. She _seduced_ me," he said, his tone accusatory, "and then said it was my fault. Terribly disrespectful of me, apparently. They said, anyway. Nine months later they handed him over and told me never to contact them again."

Harry's mouth fell open, scarcely believing what he'd just heard. "They did what?"

Draco laughed. "A little bundle of screaming Scorpius on my doorstep. I didn't even know I'd knocked her up."

Harry was too shocked to even say anything right away. He'd been knocked for six to find himself preparing for fatherhood only a year after he'd officially left Hogwarts. To be expected to take care of a son that you had had no idea was even on the way topped that by about a mile.

He was about to reply when Draco's body tensed again. Harry waited and Draco lifted his head, swallowing convulsively and looking faintly green. His body lurched and he gasped, but nothing came up. Harry watched him with wide eyes, his feelings mixed and confused.

"So how did you get from there to here?"

"Sod off, Potter," Draco said weakly, but the protest was undermined immediately as he continued talking, telling Harry just what he wanted to know. "Legal shit screwed me over. We'd sold the manor, and when Mother died I didn't have any rights to the place in France, so I came back. Nott was meant to meet me, but he never turned up. I got caught stealing. Boss bailed me out."

"Your boss?" Harry asked carefully, and Draco nodded drunkenly.

"He got me my flat. Bought me my earrings."

Harry's eyes flicked to Draco's earlobes again, his gaze on the small sparkling studs that he could no longer imagine Draco without.

"They valuable?"

Draco snorted derisively. "People like me don't get bought expensive things. God. He's going to kill me when he finds me." His voice broke on the last word and he promptly buried his face back into his hands. Harry watched him, feeling torn. He still felt that Draco was an idiot for getting himself involved in this mess, but now he knew more about the situation, he was steadily becoming more sympathetic. Also, seeing how much Draco cared for his son and how well he'd taken care of him considering the circumstances had completely changed Harry's perception of him.

As well as Harry apparently fancying the pants off of him.

"I'm not going to let anyone kill you," he finally said. He expected Draco to laugh or glare at him, but as Draco lifted his head again, Harry saw he was looking at him almost hopefully.

"Promise?"

Harry smiled weakly. "I'm not going to save your life once just to let anything happen to you."

"Well ain't that a bitch," Draco said tiredly. "Didn't know life debts came with a lifetime guarantee."

Harry laughed at that, moving his hand up Draco's back so his fingertips slipped over the neckline of his shirt onto his skin. He was so very warm, and Harry stared at his fingers for a while, knowing that he should stop bloody touching Draco-

"You're touching me again," Draco said. His eyes were shut, his face expressionless. "Go wash your hands."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said, deciding not to move his hand way on principle. Well, that and because touching Draco's skin felt nice. "You're making it into a big deal. I don't mind."

Draco opened his eyes to glare balefully at Harry, and when he spoke his tone was flat and disbelieving. "Really."

"Really," Harry said, matching the glare with a stubborn look of his own.

"Why?"

Harry shrugged. "I just don't."

Silence fell between them. Harry wanted to lean back on his hands so he could stretch his back a little, but somehow felt like he was proving a point by touching Draco. After a while the matter was taken out of his hands as Draco shifted, turning to lean against the sink, stretching his legs out and resting an elbow on the edge of the toilet, propping his head up on his fist. Harry shifted out of the way, cautiously putting a hand on Draco's shin. Draco didn't say anything, and neither did he try and push Harry's hand away.

"I don't like it," Draco murmured, eyes closed.

"Like what?" Harry asked carefully, thinking that maybe Draco meant he still didn't like Harry touching him.

"What I do," Draco told him. "My fucking job. I keep thinking, what happens when Scorpius gets old enough to work it out?"

"Well, you're out now," Harry said quietly. "And you're not going back on my watch."

"That'd be nice," Draco murmured, and Harry couldn't help but feel a spark of hope in his chest at the words, the almost-admission that Draco didn't want to go back to his old life. "Not to be like a chess piece. A cog."

"A cog?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco nodded, eyes still closed. "In a bigger machine. Not that I'm important. I just get paid to sleep with people. Keep smiles on their faces."

Harry's heart clenched at the casual words, and as he stared down at his hand resting against Draco's leg, he finally gave in and let himself think about why it bothered him so much.

As crude and ridiculous as it was, he was jealous.

Yes, he was concerned for Draco's welfare and hated the idea of anyone being pushed to share themselves in that way. Harry knew he was a hopeless romantic when it came to sex. He could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of people he'd slept with, and still viewed it as something special, something you shouldn't do just for the hell of it.

But morals and scruples aside, he knew he hated the idea of Draco sleeping with countless people because he was jealous that he never had. Not that he thought that sleeping with Draco in their present circumstances was a viable option, but still. He could dream, right?

Ron had been so right, the git.

"You're very quiet," Draco murmured, and Harry looked up at his face, taking advantage of the fact Draco had his eyes shut to look at him. He wasn't exactly attractive in a conventional way, Harry thought, but there was just something about him. Something maddening and tantalizing that Harry couldn't put his finger on.

"So are you," he replied quietly, calling a halt to his session of self-analysis and revelation. In truth, he were a little scared that if he looked back he'd find out that he'd actually fancied Draco since sixth year, because if he realised that that was the root of his obsessive-stalking behaviour he was going to have to pitch himself out of a window.

Draco didn't reply. He just nodded lethargically and heaved out a sigh. Harry continued to watch him breathing evenly and deeply, his skin tone returning to normal and his countenance growing calmer. Harry didn't move at all until Draco's head lolled and then slipped on his fist and then jerked back into place, a blatant indication that he was falling asleep right there against the toilet.

Harry's first thought was to leave him there, which would serve him right for pinching Jack Daniels out of the pantry. Not that Harry had remembered it was in there, but that was beside the point. His second thought was that he should probably play nice, considering that he and Draco were actually getting along now.

"Malfoy," he murmured, gently shaking his leg. "You're not sleeping here."

Draco jerked his head up off his fist, eyeing Harry blearily.

"Sleep?" Harry suggested, and Draco simply nodded, all of the fight in him gone. Harry stood up and held out his hands, and Draco took them without complaint, letting Harry haul him to his feet, stumbling slightly as he did. Harry kept hold of one of his hands and put the other on his shoulder, steadying him. Draco's body was warm against Harry's and Harry drew a sharp breath in at the contact, swiftly followed by a stab of despair as he realised his thoughts were already well and truly out of control. Ignoring the ache in him that wanted to pull Draco closer, he instead sighed and took a slight step back.

"Okay?"

"Don't," Draco struggled to say, swaying slightly. "Don't have to touch me."

"I told you, I don't mind," Harry said firmly. Draco didn't say a word more, and didn't complain or argue as Harry looped an arm gently around his waist, pulling one arm over his shoulders and taking hold of his wrist. Harry slowly led him out of the bathroom and into the living room, feet dragging and stumbling just as they had been the first time he'd escorted Draco whilst drunk. As soon as they were close enough, he awkwardly lowered Draco onto the sofa, making it halfway with some semblance of dignity before giving up and letting go of him, so Draco collapsed down onto the sofa in an awkward tangle of limbs.

"Where's Scorpius?" Draco mumbled, trying to push against the soft cushions of the sofa. With considerable effort, he managed to roll onto his back. "Blanket," he murmured, reaching out and waving ineffectually. "Scorpius."

"He's in your room," Harry said, waving his wand to transfigure one of the cushions into a blanket. "He's safe. If you go in you'll wake him."

Draco cracked an eye open. "He's safe?" he asked Harry weakly, and Harry nodded.

"Safe and sound."

Draco's eyes fluttered shut and he exhaled heavily, his body relaxing into the sofa cushions. Harry waited for a moment and then stepped forwards to carefully throw the blanket over Draco's prone form. He tugged it straight and as he did, he felt fingers brush his arm, before trailing over his wrist and brushing over his knuckles.

"You don't mind," Draco murmured, and Harry was frozen in place as Draco's fingers trailed over the back of his hand, the touch light but insistent. Realizing that he'd been holding his breath, Harry exhaled shakily as Draco fumbled and then finally managed to thread their fingers loosely together, flexing them gently. "As long as you don't mind."

Harry felt something in his chest clench tightly at the words and the gesture. He stayed perfectly still, knowing that he should pull away, knowing that this was dangerous.

He couldn't. He looked down at Draco and then after a moment that seemed to last forever, he sank down to the floor to kneel beside the sofa. Draco's eyes fluttered open and he seemed to focus on Harry for a brief moment, and his mouth hitched in a weak smile before he breathed out deeply and shut his eyes again, nuzzling down into the pillow.

Harry was lost. That smile had been directed at him, and Draco was holding his hand – that had to mean something right? Maybe it wasn't just Harry seeing things differently? Maybe there was something more going on here, something Harry had missed-?

No, Harry thought, pushing the thought away. Draco was drunk. He was lonely and vulnerable and confused, and that was that. And Harry knew that he was a bloody liability too; he'd already caught himself looking too many times, knew that his thoughts towards Draco were becoming increasingly confused the more time they spent together. Harry should stay away, he should put his foot down and not give into those thoughts that wished he had just kissed Draco earlier, not give his friends the opportunity to say 'I told you so.'

He drew his wand to turn off the television and the lights, turning back to Draco. Ignoring the doubts and pushing away the confusion in his mind, he stayed exactly where he was. He gently threaded their fingers together more securely, running his thumb over Draco's knuckles. Just until he went to sleep, that was all, he told himself. It couldn't hurt.

He watched Draco fall asleep, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, watching his face turn peaceful in slumber. Just as his legs started to ache, Draco made a small sleepy sigh and rolled his head to the side in his sleep. Before he let go of Draco's hand to leave, Harry murmured quietly to himself, knowing Draco wouldn't hear him.

"I don't mind."


	13. Chapter 13

_**AN: **a disclaimer of sorts - I spell focussed with two esses on purpose. Calm down, the dictionary says that you can use either. It might be because I'm British. It might be that phonics tells me that the one ess version is bad and wrong and stoopid. Also, I add extra esses for possession (Scorpius's, James's, esses's) on purpose too. I like it better that way. Thank you to everyone who gives me feedback and helps me with my typos and missing-word-syndrome - I just thought I'd say this now and save us all some time!_

**Chapter 13**

Wand in hand and breath held in his chest, Harry edged around the doorway in the police station, heart thudding in the base of his throat. He spotted his quarry immediately; Draco was leaning against the counter in the police-station, hands cuffed together in front of him and expression panicked. As Harry stepped forwards he turned to face him, eyes wide.

"Potter," he began, and then he was speaking in rapid French, words tumbling over one another, the drawl Harry knew so well now a lilting French, making a tingle go down his spine.

"I don't understand," Harry said helplessly, and he truly didn't. He knew the nonsense Draco was spouting had to be French, but he just didn't know what he was trying to say. "Malfoy-"

"_Help_," Draco demanded almost hysterically, stamping his foot like he was thirteen and hadn't got his own way. "You have to help."

"I will," Harry insisted, and Draco calmed down immediately, breathing out deeply, grey eyes watching Harry patiently. Harry stepped forwards, taking hold of one of Draco's wrists just beneath the cold metal of the handcuffs, running his thumb over Draco's skin. Their eyes met again as Harry lifted Draco's arms up and slipped between his cuffed wrists, Draco's forearms resting on his shoulders.

"I will," he repeated, and Draco was nodding and edging closer, and Harry was running his hands down his chest, across fitted black cotton. Draco was so thin, and blond, and every guy Harry had ever picked up had been thin and blond and didn't that tell him something?

"Potter," Draco whispered and he was so close, and the metal of the cuffs was cold on the back of Harry's neck, but then he'd forgotten to pick James and Al up so he had to rush to Ginny's. He was halfway to the house she and Neville shared when he remembered that they now lived at the Burrow. He arrived in the garden, running up to the house and bursting through the door but the boys weren't there, there was only a small blond child with a pointed chin and grey eyes.

"Take him," Ginny said crossly, holding him out. Harry obediently took Scorpius, who wailed and said he didn't want to see Harry, screaming and arching his back, face red. Panicking that Scorpius wouldn't stop crying, Harry turned to ask for help but Ginny was gone and then Draco appeared at the back door, demanding that Harry hand Scorpius over in French, shouting and nearly in tears, and saying that it was all Harry's fault for kissing him. Then Ginny came down the stairs and started to shout, and Harry was trying to insist that he hadn't kissed Draco, and then Scorpius and Ginny were gone and he _was_ kissing Draco, hot and open mouthed, one hand on his hip and the other on the back of his head, fingers threaded into his hair. Draco was kissing him back, his hands on Harry's waist and his body pressed so close.

God, Harry hadn't kissed anyone in so long, and Draco had taken his shirt off and was pulling at Harry's trousers, fumbling fingers trying to get his belt undone, and then Harry was on his back on his bed with Draco hovering over him, completely naked and looking at Harry like he'd wanted him for years.

Draco said something in French, his tone playful and his mouth curved in a smile. Harry had no idea what the fuck he was on about but smiled back, pulling Draco to him and capturing his mouth in a kiss, both of them panting and laughing breathlessly, and then Draco was kissing down Harry's neck and chest, over his stomach and lower-

"- was the delightful new tune from Alto Hornbeam, going solo after a stint with the band Amortentia. We'll have more tunes right after the morning weather update, sponsored by the Montrose Magpies - wings crossed for clear skies and clean flying -"

Jerking awake, Harry groaned in protest and rolled over, reaching out to try and turn the radio alarm off. He groped blindly across the stand next to his bed, knocked his glasses to the floor, and then finally found the button to turn the radio off.

"Crap," he muttered, rubbing his face and slumping back down onto his pillows, trying valiantly to convince himself that he'd not just dreamt about Draco in an undeniably sexual manner. It would be easier to rebuff the notion if he weren't aware that certain parts of his anatomy had perked up at the mere thought of getting any action.

He leant over the edge of the bed, fumbling for his glasses. This was getting ridiculous, he mentally despaired. Why couldn't he fancy someone boring and simple and who wasn't a criminal?

"Fine," he muttered as he sat up, pushing his glasses onto his nose and glaring down at his crotch. "You win. I'm interested. But you're not getting any. He's off limits."

He slumped back onto his bed with a noise that was half-laugh, half-whine. As if he weren't acting insane enough already, he was now talking to his penis. Just wonderful. This really wasn't the time to be rediscovering his sex-life; he'd been alone for a long time and dealt with it, so why was he starting to think about someone now? Life wasn't much easier, thus giving him more time to consider romantic liaisons; in fact everything was ten times more complicated at the moment.

At least thinking about the complications had made his body calm down. It was hard to be enthusiastic about thinking about anyone in a sexual way when Harry considered all the problems that came along for the ride.

It just had to be Draco bloody Malfoy, didn't it? For the first time in forever Harry sincerely hoped that Luna's ideas about the power life-debts were right, so he could pass off his new obsession with Malfoy as a by-product of old world magic-

A dull thud and the faint sound of voices drifting through the open bedroom door stopped his thoughts in their tracks. He reached for his wand and slipped out of bed, heading straight to the door. He straightened his glasses as he strained his ears, catching the sounds of several overlapping voices, voices that didn't belong to Draco or Scorpius.

"-don't care, I want to talk to him, _now_."

Ah shit. That was definitely Ginny, and she sounded mad. _Again. _Harry hovered in the doorway for a moment, but as he heard an excitable shout and familiar laughter he moved into action, grabbing his jogging bottoms – which, coincidentally, matched the pair that he'd lent to Draco – and trying to pull them on as quickly as possible. He grabbed a T-shirt and rushed towards the stairs, excitement rising in his own chest. He nearly tripped down the last step as he tried to walk and simultaneously pull his shirt over his head but didn't slow down, swiftly making his way towards the source of the noise.

Tugging his shirt down, he pushed open the kitchen door and briefly glanced at the two people assembled near the fireplace before a pair of matching shrieks captured his attention.

"DAD!"

James hit him first, hugging him tightly around the middle. Laughing, Harry bent over to pick him up, squeezing him tightly and relishing in the feel of James's arms wrapped securely around his neck.

"Me!" a familiar voice by his knees wailed. "Pick me up!"

"You saw him last week," James said, kicking out with his feet, leaning back to scowl down at Al. "Me first."

"James, mind your feet - hold on." Harry hooked his ankle around a chair leg and pulled it out away from the table, sitting down and shifting James so Al could clamber up onto his knee as well, both kneeling on his lap with arms around his neck. Harry hugged them both tightly, feeling extraordinarily relieved that he'd got his boys back in his arms.

"Boys, go and play," Ginny's voice said, and Harry tensed. "I need a word with your Dad."

James pulled back, looking unsure. Harry didn't want to let him go but he didn't want an argument in front of the boys, especially not when Hermione was also hovering nearby, still in front of the fireplace and looking worried.

"I'll come play in a bit," Harry promised James, who nodded and slipped off his knee, heading for the stairs. Al followed immediately, shouting crossly after James and going as fast as his four-year old legs would carry him.

"Well, thanks for giving me the time to say hello," Harry said, feeling put-out. "Never mind that I've not seen James in ages-"

"Don't," Ginny said, and the carefully controlled anger in her voice made Harry pause. "Don't you even-"

"What's the problem now?" Harry asked, feeling wary.

"What's the problem?" Ginny repeated, her voice shaking. "That you've been suspended from work! As well as the fact you've neglected to mention exactly what Malfoy has been up to prior to this ridiculous rescue."

Harry's stomach fell, twisting into a knot. Fuck. He opened his mouth uselessly and then shut it again, not knowing what on Earth he could say. Unfortunately, Ginny was waiting for an answer, something or anything Harry could say to make things better-

"I-"

His sentence was cut off as the floo flared to life and a familiar figure tumbled through the fireplace onto his hands and knees, looking about wildly.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, looking panicked. "Everyone knows about you being suspended, and Hermione told Ginny about Malfoy and they're on the - ah. Hello dear."

Harry felt a twisted desire to laugh and surreptitiously put his palm over his mouth as Ron clambered to his feet, brushing himself down and trying to look casual.

"Fancy seeing you here," he said, shooting a winning smile over in Hermione's direction.

Hermione narrowed her eyes in return. "Where are the kids?"

"With Mum," Ron said with a shrug. "Safe and sound and probably eating their own bodyweight in cake."

Hermione's narrowed even further. Ron took a discreet step back, still trying valiantly to look casual. Ginny rolled her eyes in his direction and then turned her attention back to Harry, frown appearing on her face once more. At least Ron's appearance had taken the edge off of her anger, and now she just looked disappointed. Actually, that was probably worse than the anger, Harry thought glumly. He _hated_ people being disappointed in him.

"What were you thinking?" Ginny asked quietly, pulling out a chair and sitting down. Behind her, Ron and Hermione were trying to argue without making any noise, gesticulating wildly and mouthing exaggeratedly.

"I don't know," Harry replied.

"Harry, he's a-"

"I know," Harry interrupted, not wanting to hear it. He couldn't, not now. "It's complicated."

"Complicated? You want to explain?" Ginny asked stiffly, and Harry looked up at her, grateful that she'd said those words even though she didn't sound remotely happy about it.

"He's had a rough time of it," Harry said, his voice low. "He came back to England and was meant to meet Theo Nott I think, but Nott never turned up-"

"I meant about you being suspended," Ginny said through gritted teeth. "Not about Malfoy."

"Oh," Harry said lamely. "Well, er, the thing is…I may have r- fetched him before knowing he was…a person of interest to the Auror department."

If Ginny had been angry before, Harry didn't have a word to describe how she looked now. Her face had gone white and she was staring at him like he was a ghost.

"A person of interest?" she whispered. Behind her, Ron and Hermione were froze mid-argument, staring at Harry and Ginny as if they were a broom crash happening in slow-motion. "He's wanted by the Aurors?"

"No, no, _he's_ not wanted by the Aurors," Harry hastened to say, and then paused. "His boss might be, though."

"His pimp," Ginny said bluntly and Harry cringed and then nodded.

"It's not just like that, though," he said. "It's more complicated."

"You keep saying that," Ginny said, sounding frustrated. "How more complicated can it get?"

Harry didn't answer straight away. He looked down at the table, wishing that for once in his life he could just have left everything well alone. "The crime ring the Ministry's trying to crack," he said dully. Ginny swore, pushing her hair away from her face.

"Are you bloody kidding me?"

"Don't worry, he's not a criminal mastermind or anything," Harry said tiredly. "Not even close."

There was the sound of a chairs being pulled back, and Ron and Hermione sat down. Ron smiled ruefully and waved his wand towards the kettle.

"I think we're going to need tea for this."

"Harry," Hermione said gently, and Harry looked over at her, meeting concerned brown eyes. "Tell us everything. About Malfoy, about what he's involved with."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Will it help?"

Hermione looked to Ginny, expression hopeful. Ginny sighed and folded her arms across her chest. "We'll see after we've heard it."

Harry hesitated. Somewhere within him he felt like it wasn't his place to say, that what Draco had been through was his secret to keep. But at the same time, he owed his closest friends and his ex-wife an explanation as to what was going on. From their point of view all they knew was that he'd moved an acquitted Death eater and possible convict into the house, without so much as a heads up. Taking a deep breath, he decided to go for the abridged version.

"When he came back from France he was supposed to meet Theo Nott. From what I can make out, Nott never turned up and left Draco in the shit. His boss helped him out when he got caught stealing, and I guess he then said Draco owed him one and dragged him into whatever mess has got the Aurors tied up. He's got no money, had nowhere to go, so it was either go along with this bloke, or…"

"He didn't have a choice," Hermione said softly.

Harry shook his head. "No. He'd got Scorpius to care for. I think all he cared about was the fact he'd got a roof over their heads and could feed them both."

"Surely he could have asked someone for help," Ginny said.

"Who?" Harry asked pointedly. "All his old friends are MIA and the rest of everyone hates him."

"Where did Scorpius even come from?" Ron asked, frowning. "He's gay, right?"

"That's a point, why doesn't Scorpius's mother help?" Ginny asked, exchanging a glance with Hermione.

"Because she doesn't want him," Harry said hollowly. "Draco slept with her once and didn't even know he'd got her pregnant. They dumped Scorpius on Draco's doorstep when he was born and refused to have anything to do with him."

"God," Ginny murmured, resting her chin on her hand, her eyes troubled. "That's-" she shook her head, tucking her hair behind her ear. "But why you?" she asked somewhat desperately. "You didn't have to jump in."

"Course I did," Harry said simply.

Ginny sighed, looking tired. "Of course you did," she repeated quietly, and then took a deep breath, as if steeling herself to say something. When she spoke, her words were firm but quiet and tinged with sadness, as if she didn't want to have to say it. "I won't have the boys here whilst he's here."

Dread panic flooded through Harry's veins. "No!" he exclaimed, sitting up straight and leaning over towards her. "You can't do that."

"Ginny-"

Ginny ignored Ron's interjection, looking straight at Harry with her expression serious. "He's a bad influence. Ron says he's been drinking constantly."

"Not constantly," Harry tried to argue, pushing away the memory of the previous night. "I've been in worse states than him-"

"And I didn't let you see Al or have James whilst you were in your state," Ginny reminded him.

"Ginny, don't," Harry said. "Please. He's not that bad at all. He's not got his wand so he can't cause trouble, and he's actually being pleasant."

"He is?" Ron asked, sounding surprised.

Harry nodded emphatically. "_Yes_. We talked, and he's being nice."

Ginny was shaking her head, though she was starting to look unsure. Behind them Hermione was murmuring something to Ron but Harry didn't dare look away from Ginny. She _had_ to let the boys stay; she couldn't take them away just because of Malfoy, not when Harry had gotten so far with him.

"How can I trust what you're saying?" she asked a little helplessly. "I'm not trying to be mean, I just want the boys safe-"

"You can meet him," Harry said before he could help himself. "Spend some time with him, and you can see he's not that bad anymore."

"Not that bad?" Ginny asked, her tone cautious.

"Yes," Harry said, seizing onto the idea like a lifeline, standing up. "You'll see."

"Harry," Ginny tried to protest, sounding exhausted.

Harry ignored her. He dashed out of the kitchen and back up the stairs, heart hammering and praying that this would work. He burst into the living room and saw it was empty; the blanket Draco had used the night before was draped across the arm of the sofa and a pillow was lying on the floor nearby. He turned back on his heel and rushed out of the room, tripping along the landing before hastily knocking on the door to Draco's room. He didn't wait for a response before pushing the door open and slipping inside.

He froze momentarily as he saw Draco standing on the far side of the room, rubbing his hair with a towel. Luckily, another towel was wrapped around his waist, though it was riding precariously low on his hips. Draco looked up, and his face darkened instantly.

"What the fuck, Potter?" he snapped, holding the towel he'd been drying his hair with over his chest. "Stop barging in."

"I need a favour," Harry said without preamble. "Ginny's here."

"I know," Draco said sourly. "Your little one burst in to find Scorpius ten minutes ago."

"Shit, sorry," Harry said distractedly. "Look, could you-"

"Leave me alone, Potter," Draco interrupted angrily. "After last night you should be lucky I don't bloody _kill_ you."

"Last night?" Harry asked, confused and taken aback by the venom. "I didn't do anything."

"You came in asking me all this crap when I was drunk," Draco snarled, his cheeks stained an ugly pink. "Bad form, even from you."

Harry gaped at him. "Have you met you?" he asked. "You can't shut you up when you're drunk."

Draco stared at him, mouth working uselessly as he tried to find words. "Fuck off," he eventually snapped, turning his back on Harry.

Harry hovered uselessly, eyes on Draco's shoulders and unable to look away or deny the deep ache inside him, the twist of confusion that was helplessly focussed on the man in front of him. He wanted - god, he didn't even know anymore. He wanted Draco to just give it up and be nice. He wanted to go over and touch him. He wanted to stop being so angry at him, and he wanted to put the past to rest and get _on_ with his life. Fuck, he hadn't anticipated the moment last night backfiring like this; all he'd done was look after the git whilst he was smashed. He hadn't intended to pry or to make Draco uncomfortable.

"Draco, please," he said, voice catching as he went for all-out honesty and pleading. "Ginny is mad because she knows I've been suspended and she won't let me have the boys over because she doesn't trust you. If you just come down and act civilized for a while, she'll know you're okay and she'll let the boys stay."

Draco stayed very still. Harry watched him, now not even bothering to look at Draco's naked back, too worried and frightened to think about anything over the panic that was settling in every inch of his body.

"I didn't mean to pry last night," he said helplessly. "I wanted to make sure you were alright, and then you started talking and I just…you were talking to me without insulting me, it made a nice change. I won't tell anyone what you said, I won't even mention it again."

"Go away," Draco said quietly.

The panic compounded itself into grief in Harry's chest. He stared at Draco's back a while longer and then turned away, feeling a lump in his throat and more disappointment than he'd felt upon finding Draco drunk the previous night. Without another word, he left the room, his feet feeling heavy and leaden.

"Where's Scorpius from?" a curious voice behind him asked.

As he shut the door, he turned around to see James turning a transformer toy over in his hands, looking up at him inquisitively.

"France," Harry said, clearing his throat and trying to pull himself together.

"Al says he's _his_ friend," James said, looking down at the toy.

Harry smiled weakly, even as his heart clenched at the looming possibility of not being able to have James with him for a long while. "Tell Al you all have to be friends."

James immediately shot off and Harry slumped against the doorframe, trying to regroup. Well, that was the Draco option out, so what could he now do? Stall Ginny and try and convince her to let the boys stay? Or…get rid of Draco. Right after he'd promised to take care of him. Rubbing his face, Harry felt torn. He wanted to help Draco, he really did, but he couldn't sacrifice time he got to spend with his children for anyone.

He made his feet move and walked back downstairs, heart heavy. This was ridiculous, all he'd done was care for someone else, and this was the mess he'd been left with. Life made being heroic very hard work some days.

"Well?" Ginny asked as he walked back into the kitchen, expression expectant. At least she seemed willing to go along with Harry's plan and give Draco a chance, though a fat lot of good that it did now anyway.

"He's in the shower," Harry lied, walking over towards the kettle and avoiding eye contact with anyone. "So, who wanted tea?"

Silence met his words, strained and upset. The lump in Harry's throat seemed to grow and the ache in his chest clenched painfully, and he wished he could talk without his voice wavering. Just when he was starting to worry that he might actually cry, the silence was broken as Hermione turned to Ginny to ask her how Alice was getting along. Her calm yet firm tone diffused some of the tension and allowed Harry a chance to breathe, but he could still sense Ginny's eyes on him. As he flicked his wand at the kettle to top it up with more water, Ron sidled up to him.

"He won't come down, will he?" Ron said quietly, so only Harry could hear.

"Nope," Harry replied, reaching for mugs from the nearby shelf.

"What're you going to do?" Ron asked carefully.

Harry shrugged marginally as he set down the mugs with more force than was strictly necessary. "Don't know."

"I'm sorry about this," Ron muttered.

Harry sighed and then reached up to clap him on the shoulder. "Not your fault."

He knew Ron was apologising for the fact Hermione had told Ginny what Ron had presumably told her about Draco's 'profession'. He should have expected it, really. He and Hermione weren't as close as they used to be and it was moments like this that made it awkwardly clear. He didn't blame either of them; it was just natural progression that had meant they drifted apart a little. Hermione had bonded more with Ginny since they had had children, the shared experience of motherhood creating a stronger relationship than they'd had before. Not to mention that Harry's atrocious behaviour after Al was born had strained his relationships with almost everyone. It was a small miracle that Ron had been as understanding as he had been, and luckily the experience had made him and Harry closer than ever.

"Anyone want anything to eat?" he called, trying to regain some normalcy to his voice whilst he stalled everyone and worked out what he was supposed to do.

"If you're offering."

Conversation abruptly stopped and Harry span around at the sound of the ever-familiar drawl, nearly knocking the mugs off the side in the process. His eyes widened as he saw Draco in the doorway, looking calm and collected and right at Harry. His hair was still damp and he was wearing his black jeans and a pale blue button-down shirt that was actually Harry's, top button undone and sleeves rolled up. Scorpius was at his side, leaning against Draco's leg and looking at the newcomers with shy eyes.

Harry couldn't even bring himself to speak; in quick succession he realised that Draco had actually listened to him and couldn't be all that mad about the incident the night before because here he was, acting like a civilized human being and saving Harry's arse. That wonderful ridiculous wanker, putting Harry through ten minutes of bloody torture only to turn up just as Harry had asked. God, if he were standing closer Harry would bloody _kiss_ him-

"Malfoy."

Harry jerked back into reality as Ron's voice cut through his whirling thoughts. Harry surreptitiously crossed his fingers behind him as Draco's eyes flicked over to Ron, hoping that his expression wasn't blatantly pleading for Draco to behave.

"Weasley," Draco nodded at Ron in return, then looking back to Harry.

"So. Did you say food?"

Harry couldn't help but grin, the dead weight in his chest lifting and vanishing with startling speed. He couldn't help it. God, the complete _git_, leaving Harry to think he was going to have to chuck him out, or not see his kids. But fuck it, he was here now, looking clean and presentable and acting civilised. As Harry smiled hopelessly, Draco rolled his eyes and looked away, but Harry saw his mouth move into the ghost of a tired smile.

"Malfoy," Ginny said cautiously, at the same time Scorpius reached up to pull on Draco's – Harry's – shirt, clamouring in French to be picked up. Draco leant down to scoop him up, holding him close, before nodding in Ginny's direction.

"Ginny," he said and then turned to Hermione, still holding Scorpius tightly to him. "Hello, Granger."

"Hello," Hermione replied somewhat cautiously, and then seemed to regroup. She took a deep breath, schooled her expression into something more even, and then she looked at Draco and Scorpius, smiling tentatively. "And who is the miniature version of you?"

"Scorpius," Draco said simply. Scorpius smiled and hid his face in Draco's neck, and Harry felt a sudden and overwhelming surge of pride in the both of them. They were both so brave in their own ways; after being through years of hardship they were still standing there together. Alongside the odd sense of pride in the pair, Harry felt a wave of protectiveness, feeling that it were his duty to make sure they stayed content and safe.

"Dad, I'm hungry," came a voice, and then James pushed past Draco into the kitchen, looking at Harry hopefully. "Is it time for lunch?"

"Er-"

Harry paused, looking from James to Draco to Ron and Hermione and then back to Ginny. Normally she would drop the boys off and leave Harry to make their lunch, but today wasn't shaping up to be what he would consider a normal day by any standards.

"Yes," Ginny suddenly said, and all heads turned to her. "Let's all have lunch together. A reunion. Just to show there's no bad feelings."

Her tone was light but Harry wasn't fooled in the slightest; he could tell her intention was to keep them all together so she could keep an eye on Draco and see how he behaved. It was a challenge, and Harry knew it. He looked up to see Draco staring at him, looking uncertain. Harry shot him a pleading look and a slight nod and then Draco sighed and nodded in return.

"Spaghetti?" Scorpius said hopefully, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"What is with you and spaghetti?"

"Harry fait du bon spaghetti," Scorpius said sincerely. "J'aime ce qu'il cuisine."

Draco looked up at Harry. "That was a compliment," he said lightly. Harry could tell he was uncomfortable, but he was trying to hide it and Harry was so grateful that he felt giddy. If Draco just kept it up then Ginny might relent and then everything would be fine.

Expectant faces were all still facing in his direction, waiting to see what he'd decide. He was wary of being scrutinized, worried that Draco would give Ginny reason to stand by her choice to not allow the boys in the house. But then again, Draco might behave perfectly well. He weighed up his options a moment longer and then decided to put some faith in Draco and go for it.

"I can do soup for everyone," he finally said, and was met with nods of approval and murmurings of assent. He looked to Hermione. "Staying? Or do you have to get back to the kids?"

"Well, we'll stay if there's enough," she said, her tone overly casual. "It's up to you, though."

"Stay," Harry said with a wan smile, knowing that Hermione was itching to stay and watch the scenario unfold, to see what would happen with Draco. Honestly, her intellectual curiosity sometimes boiled down to nothing more than being nosy.

There was a pause. Ginny looked from Draco to Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances of quiet anticipation and Draco looked determinedly at Scorpius, studiously avoiding everyone else in the room-

"MU-UM!"

Harry was saved from having to break the moment by Al, who ran into the room in considerable distress, holding a stuffed dragon in his hand. Ginny turned to him instantly to calm him down, patiently asking him what was wrong and simultaneously trying to prevent James from waving his transformer toy right in his brother's face.

Harry took the distraction for what it was and turned away to try and collect himself. He had to make lunch for five adults and three children and just hope that everyone would behave. He half-smiled as he realised that – not for the first time in his life – he was hoping that the adults would behave, not the children.

At the moment, everything seemed okay; Ginny was still occupied with the boys, Draco was with Scorpius, and Ron and Hermione were discussing something to do with Hugo and school. Foregoing summoning due to the amount of people in the room, he walked over to the cupboards at the back of the kitchen and pulled out the biggest pan he had.

"I hate you for this, you realise," a voice at his shoulder muttered and Harry turned to grin at Draco who was now leaning on the worktop next to him, unable to stop himself giving Draco a quick once-over. That shirt looked good on him, and Harry felt an odd thrill run through him as he realised Draco must have gone into his bedroom to pinch it out of the wardrobe.

"I know," he replied in an undertone, still distracted and a little flustered by the sudden change in situation. "But I could bloody kiss you right now, so stop whinging."

Draco's eyes went wide and he opened his mouth uncertainly, looking confused. "What?"

Harry realised what he'd said and hastily backpedalled. "No, I just mean – I meant thank you. You didn't have to, and it's just that-"

"Stop talking before you hurt yourself," Draco interrupted, but he didn't sound cross. He reached out to fiddle with the coffee pot. "I owe you. Quite a lot. So here you go."

Harry nodded, not fully understanding but quite willing to go along with it if it meant things got sorted out. He'd gladly take Draco's offering as a means to start balancing out their debts to one another

"That's fair enough," he said. "Thanks for saving my arse."

Draco laughed shortly and Harry blinked, unable to help noticing how Draco looked so much better when he was smiling rather than scowling. "Oh, how the tables are turning."

Harry laughed too. "Feel like being useful?"

Draco's expression gave him away as quite unwilling and also slightly nervous about what Harry would request. "Do I have to?"

Harry shoved the pan at him, and Draco grabbed it, stumbling slightly. "Put that on the cooker top."

"Arse," Draco scowled, but took the pan obediently and walked off towards the cooker. Harry watched as he set it atop the Aga, before turning around to look for Scorpius. Scorpius was now with Al on the other side of the room and Draco watched him for a moment, clearly dithering before abruptly walking back to Harry.

"What else?" he asked abruptly, and Harry raised an eyebrow. "I feel like an idiot," Draco muttered so only Harry could hear. "Give me something to do."

Harry nodded, understanding at once. Draco wanted Scorpius with him and was fighting the selfish impulse to use Scorpius as a means to keep himself distracted and distanced from the others in the room. However, Scorpius was happily playing with Al and certainly seemed more at ease than his father. As such, Harry jerked his head in an indication for Draco to follow, heading towards the pantry.

"I'm not a house elf," Draco said pointedly as Harry passed him a crate of vegetables.

"Rather make conversation with my ex-wife?"

Draco pulled a face as Harry gave him a push, making him back out of the pantry. As he followed Draco, Ron caught his eye, an eyebrow raised and a somewhat incredulous look on his face. Harry didn't know what that look was supposed to mean so he ignored it and instead focused on Draco and the vegetables.

"I'm not helping without a wand," Draco said flatly, dropping the crate onto the worktop next to the sink. He leant against the worktop, crossing his arms across his chest and looking determinedly at Harry. Harry knew he was only looking at him to avoid acknowledging the others in the room, but it still felt strange to be the sole figure of Draco's focus, especially when the attention wasn't negative.

He didn't say anything more; there was no need. Harry concentrated on chopping vegetables and half-listened to the conversation in the background. The low chatter and the bright and cheerful voices of the children soothed him somewhat. Strangely, Draco's silent form leaning against the worktop near him also served to calm him down. At least he knew Draco couldn't cause trouble if he were glued to Harry's side.

Soup was simple enough to make – Merlin knew he'd had enough practice – and soon it was a case of simply waiting and making sure the bottom of the pan didn't burn. Wiping his hands on a tea-towel, he chanced a glance over at Draco. Draco had turned around so he was leaning back on the worktop, watching Scorpius with his arms folded across his chest.

"How're you feeling today anyway?" Harry asked casually.

Draco shrugged. "Not great. Same old."

"Well you don't look too bad," Harry commented. Draco raised an eyebrow at him, looking unimpressed.

"Is that a joke?"

"No!" Harry insisted. "I just meant…well. You know."

"Eloquent," Draco muttered, and turned around again so he was facing the same way as Harry. "Look. Last night. Can we talk about it later?"

Harry nodded, a little surprised at the request to talk. "You sure?"

"Well, I thought you'd insist and figured it would be better to do it without an audience," Draco said, and Harry thought he could hear something that sounded like nervousness in Draco's tone.

"Up to you," Harry said casually. "But yeah. Later."

Draco nodded, watching as Harry reached over to stir the soup. "Never suspected you could cook," Draco said suddenly, staring at the pot. "You were rubbish at potions unless you were cheating."

"How did you know I was cheating?" Harry asked, momentarily distracted.

"Snape," Draco said simply. "Said you had his notes."

Harry laughed shortly. "Bastard. Couldn't even let me have a year of glory, could he."

"Like you've not had enough," Draco said with a snort, shaking his head.

Harry nodded, conceding the point. "S'pose. Bowls, please."

Draco appeared to hesitate for a moment, standing perfectly still and watching as Harry stirred the soup again. He didn't appear to take long to come to a conclusion; he glanced over towards Scorpius, Al and James and then nodded, edging past Harry to go and collect the bowls from the cupboard.

Harry chanced a look at Ginny; she was chatting with Hermione but as he watched her eyes flicked up to watch Draco fetch the bowls. She looked calm and Harry was grateful that she was giving him and Draco a chance to prove themselves. She could all too have easily point-blank refused to even entertain the notion of spending time with Draco.

"Right, get yourselves into some sort of order," he called as he started to ladle out soup, nervous anticipating bubbling in his stomach. "I'm not feeding a rabble."

Mealtimes with this many people were normally chaos, and today was no exception. The three kids at first chose to sit along one side of the table and then simultaneously decided against it. James moved around to the other side of the table, announcing that he wanted to sit next to Harry. Al immediately insisted that he wanted to sit next to Harry too, then whilst everyone was moving he decided that he'd changed his mind and wanted to sit with Scorpius. However, by the time he got there Draco had also slipped into a seat – trying to do so without drawing anyone's attention – so the only free space for Al was on the end of the table next to Draco.

"I'll sit opposite you, Dad," Al assured Harry earnestly as he slid into the empty seat. Harry smiled at him and then smothered a laugh as Al twisted around to talk to Scorpius, promptly leaning over Draco in the process.

Draco looked startled and held his hands up out of the way, as if unsure as to what to do with a child that wasn't his. He looked up at Harry and Harry shrugged, still trying not to laugh. He glanced over and saw Ginny was watching the scene with interest, peering past Hermione's arm as she leant forwards to slice the loaf of bread that sat in the centre of the table. Ron was dishing out mugs of tea and juice for the kids, also glancing at Draco every now and again.

Draco grimaced as Scorpius leant into him, walking a toy spider town the table towards Al. Al laughed and leant over even further, so he was almost kneeling on Draco's lap. Draco put up with it for a couple of minutes, until an elbow in his side made him wince and marked the end of his patience.

"Would you like to swap?" he asked Al, who paused and looked up at him.

"Yes please," he said brightly. Draco nodded and shifted his chair back, looking left and right, presumably to see if there were space to get out. A full ten seconds later he gave up and simply reached over and grabbed Al around the middle.

Harry's eyes widened, bowl of soup forgotten in his hand, feeling strange as he watched Draco heave Al up and set him on his knee before shifting over onto the chair previously occupied by Al. Al immediately slipped off of Draco's knee onto the chair next to Scorpius, oblivious to the fact that what had just happened was actually something rather important.

Draco settled back and then, as if he'd realised what he'd just done, all of a sudden looked up at Harry, biting his lip and sending an apologetic and nervous look Harry's way. Harry smiled weakly and then nodded at him, walking around and passing him the bowl that was in his hand.

"It's okay," he murmured and Draco relaxed, taking the bowl with a grateful nod, sliding it across the table towards Scorpius. He took the next one too and passed it to Al, watching the pair with careful eyes. Harry had to stop his own observations to dish out the rest of the food before sitting down next to James who was already attacking his own soup with enthusiasm. He was now opposite Draco, and he would bet his firebolt that Ginny was sat at the other end of the table watching them like a hawk.

Quiet fell for a long while, except for the sounds of spoons on bowls and the slurping of soup, interjected with a giggle from Al and Scorpius every so often. Harry had no idea what to say; normal banter would be about work or Quidditch or the kids, but Ron was down the other end of the table and Hermione and Ginny weren't offering any input to conversation either.

He focussed on his soup and tried to ignore how awkward everything felt, despite the improved temperaments. He was still nervous that Draco would do something to set Ginny off, and was uncomfortable with being scrutinized by everyone else. Maybe he should-

"Why have you got earrings in?"

Harry jerked his head up at the sound of James's curious voice. Across the table, Draco was looking somewhere between bewildered and uncomfortable, paused in place. He cleared his throat and then shrugged, looking down at his bowl.

"They were a present from someone," he said, looking up at James who was still watching him.

"Girls wear earrings," James said matter-of-factly, and Harry heard Ron snort with laughter, hastily covering it with a cough.

Draco paused, stirring his spoon through his soup. "Says who?" he finally said, a weary smile on his face.

James shrugged, wrinkling his nose. "Everyone."

Draco shook his head. "Anyone can wear earrings. There's no rule."

"Uncle Bill has one, remember?" Harry added, nudging James with his elbow.

"Yeah, but it's not sparkly," James said. "I've only seen girls wear sparkly things."

Harry glanced at Draco, noting the uncomfortable flush that was working its way across his cheekbones. Draco cleared his throat and lifted his head, pushing his fringe away from his eyes.

"Well, I'm different," he said, and James laughed, turning his attention back to his soup.

The tension seemed to ebb away after that; everyone visibly relaxed, and Hermione turned to talk to Ginny again, asking something about Neville and his latest fascination in the garden.

"So, how is Ellis coping without you?" Ron called down to Harry, having finished his own soup in record time. "Has he had to be re-partnered?"

"Yeah, with Adam Campbell," Harry said with a grin and Ron laughed.

"Bet he loves you for that."

"Rather him than me," Harry said with a shrug. "Campbell about knocked himself out when I saw him the other day, walked into a door."

"Is he still following you about?" Ginny asked, and Harry shook his head.

"Not really. He just trips over himself whenever I see him."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I think you're mean to him."

"I've still not forgiven him for calling me Harry The-Chosen-One Potter the first time we met," Harry said flatly. "Ellis about wet himself."

"He's fairly harmless though, isn't he?" Hermione said, and Harry nodded, conceding the point. He glanced over at Draco who was still eating, though quite clearly listening in on the conversation.

"I think he likes you," Hermione said, the hint clear in her tone. "Give him a chance. Maybe take him out, get to know him outside of work."

"Really?" Ron interjected, looking at Hermione in disbelief, and then turning his attention to Harry. "If I ever hear of you taking Adam Campbell out on a date, I will disown you-"

He was cut off by a loud choking noise, and everyone turned in alarm to look at Draco who was coughing violently, cheeks red and eyes watering.

"Sorry," he gasped as Al leapt into action, kneeling up in his chair and leaning over to pat Draco on the back. "Swallowed wrong. I'm okay."

He raised streaming eyes to meet Harry's, looking shocked. Harry felt his own cheeks flush and looked away, cursing mentally and wishing he could have the last ten seconds of his life back. Ginny was looking from him to Draco curiously, and Ron was looking like he was trying not to laugh.

Harry didn't utter a word for the rest of lunch. He listened to Ron, Ginny and Hermione chatting and frequently glanced over to watch Draco, who occasionally spoke to Scorpius and Al when they demanded his attention, but didn't pay attention to the others. That was fine by Harry; by sitting with the two kids Draco was unwittingly presenting his best side to the others. He was not only keeping Scorpius occupied and sensible, but Al too, which admittedly didn't give him much free time for being rude to anyone else.

Harry finished his own lunch and set his spoon down, leaning back in his chair and breathing out deeply. As he looked up he saw Draco was looking at him, but quickly looked away as soon as Harry turned his face towards him.

"Mate, have you still got your copy of Flying with the Cannons?"

Harry looked up as Ron called down to him and nodded, frowning. "Why?"

"Hugo wanted to have a look, and Rose threw up on my copy," Ron said, and across the table James started to laugh into his lunch. "Just father-son bonding, you know."

"Yeah, sure," Harry said, and stood up, pushing his chair back and grateful for the opportunity to get away from everyone for a moment. He walked around the table, and Ron got up as well, following him out of the kitchen.

"I take it I just dropped you in it?" Ron asked as they set foot on the stairs, out of earshot of the kitchen.

Harry sighed, nodding. "I'm getting used to it."

"So nothing's happened between you two yet?" Ron asked a while later. Harry stopped at the top of the stairs, exasperated.

"How could it, if he didn't know I was gay?"

Ron's eyes widened as he turned to face Harry, also coming to a standstill. "Does that mean you're planning on something happening now he does know?"

"No!" Harry hissed, looking back down the stairs to check no-one was there. He felt his cheeks growing hot and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. No. Maybe. No," he said, backpedalling and rapidly growing flustered.

"You don't know?" Ron gaped. "Mate-"

"I said no, didn't I?" Harry whispered back fiercely. "What makes you think-"

"The way you two keep eyeing each other up when the other one's not looking!" Ron replied. "The way he's wearing your shirt, and sitting with your kid-"

"I swear to god I had nothing to do with the shirt. He's just a wardrobe thief-"

"_Harry._"

Harry sighed in the face of Ron's stern expression and firm tone. He breathed in and out deeply, rubbing his face.

"Alright," he said quietly. "I fancy him. I find him attractive, and know it's ridiculous. What can I do?"

Ron eyed him for a moment, expression serious and almost sympathetic. "Couldn't you have fancied someone normal?" he finally asked, and Harry laughed.

"I keep asking myself that," he said, and jerked his head along the landing. "Come on."

He knew exactly where the book was, and that was in Draco's room. The _spare_ room, dammit. He pushed the door open and stepped in, noticing the towels Draco had used earlier strewn across the bed.

"Are you sure that…you know. You _just_ fancy him?" Ron asked carefully as Harry stepped over towards the bookshelf.

"No idea what you're talking about," Harry said, scanning the shelves.

"Oh come on. You should have seen your face watching him with Al. Looked more than simple sexual attraction," Ron said.

"I was watching Al," Harry tried to argue, spotting the book Ron wanted and reaching for it.

"Bollocks," Ron said mildly, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm not an idiot."

"I don't know, alright? One minute I hate the bastard, the next minute I'm dreaming about snogging him and it's just so confusing," Harry said, turning around and leaning back against the edge of the bookshelf.

"Well the last I saw him he was being a snotty little shite," Ron said, brow furrowed.

"Yeah, he was. But after I got suspended he seemed to back off a bit, and then…" Harry trailed off, blowing out a breath and looking at the ceiling.

"What?" Ron asked warily.

"I saw him with Scorpius, just playing about and having a laugh," Harry admitted. "He comes across alright when you see him like that. And then the other day I figured out – you know when I was freaking out about Neville taking over with the boys? After him and Gin got married?"

Ron nodded, listening intently.

"Well that's why he was being so difficult. He thought I was taking over with Scorpius."

"And were you?"

"Probably. A bit," Harry admitted. "So the other night, Scorpius fell asleep in the living room so I took him to Draco, just to show him that I got it, and after that we've been alright."

"What about this morning?" Ron asked. "When he wouldn't come down?"

"Minor over-reaction on his part," Harry said dismissively. "He got drunk last night and told me all this stuff, and he was mad about it."

"He got drunk again?" Ron asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry nodded, trying not to think about the drunken almost-kiss moment and Draco holding his hand in the dark. "He was confused about liking me apparently," he said. "I think it was easier for him when he could just hate me and get on with it."

Ron laughed and reached out for the book Harry was holding. "Well, sounds like you two are making a perfectly wonderful dysfunctional family unit."

"Getting there," Harry sighed, shoving the book at Ron. "Reckon Malfoy's been nice enough to convince Ginny?"

Ron took the book. "I don't know," he said, making for the door. "He's been pretty good today but I don't know what Ginny's thinking. Hopefully."

Harry nodded and followed him, suddenly feeling nervous all over again as he realised that he wasn't out of the woods yet. Ron was right; Draco had been very well behaved so far but it still might not be enough. He hadn't ventured a word to either of the women though, what if Ginny got offended by that-?

He nearly ran into Ron as he stopped in the doorway, as lost in his thoughts as he was. He stepped back and straightened his glasses as Ron turned around to face him.

"Don't worry," Ron said, clapping him on the shoulder, smile understanding. "She won't stop you seeing them. You're a great dad, and she can't hold this Malfoy thing against you." Ron paused. "Just don't tell her you're planning on shagging him."

Harry shoved Ron out through the doorway. "Shut up," he laughed, giving Ron another shove for good luck. Ron laughed too and headed for the stairs.

As Harry followed him, his smile faded a little. He knew Ginny wouldn't stop him seeing the boys, but that didn't mean she wouldn't insist it were at her house away from Draco. Harry shook himself mentally, trying to stop himself thinking the worse. He would just have to go back downstairs and see what the verdict was.

God, but he hoped to god that Ginny would say yes.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"So," Harry said when he and Ginny finally had a moment to talk. The kitchen was now quiet; Ron and Hermione had left a while back, and Draco had gone upstairs to keep an eye on the kids. Or rather, Scorpius had pleaded with him until he'd agreed to go upstairs and play with them all. The table was clear and the pots all washed up, and now all that was left for them to do was talk.

Ginny turned to face him, wiping her hands on a towel and leaning back against the table. She tossed the towel aside and pushed her hair back with both hands.

"He's not what I expected," she said honestly and Harry smiled, walking over to the pot of tea he'd put onto brew, drawing his wand to summon the milk from the fridge.

"I know."

"Al seems very taken with him," she commented, watching Harry as he poured the tea.

"That's a recent development," Harry said. "He's not really seen him much before. I think it's because he likes Scorpius, so he immediately trusts Draco. I don't know. He just knows he's Scorpius's dad, so that's good enough for him."

"And do you honestly trust him?" she asked gently.

Harry picked up a spoon and stirred both mugs, thinking hard. "Yeah," he finally said, dropping the spoon and reaching for the milk.

"And you're over everything that happened at school?"

Harry passed her over her tea. "I've not really thought about it much," he admitted. "It's like we're different people now. I mean, we've grown up."

"Mostly," Ginny said, but when Harry looked up she was smiling.

He smiled too, laughing softly. "Mostly," he agreed, cradling his own mug between his hands and moving to lean against the table next to her. "But you know what I mean. So much has happened since school it's like it's in another lifetime. I still can't get over the fact James is seven. Makes me feel old."

"I can't quite get over the fact that I've been married twice and I'm only twenty-five," she sighed. "We were idiots back then."

"Well, maybe you'll get it third time lucky," Harry said seriously, then laughed as Ginny shoved at him. "Joking, joking."

They fell into a comfortable silence, sipping their tea in quiet companionship. It was nice, Harry thought, for them to be able to do this without the strained atmosphere that had followed them since Malfoy's arrival.

"The boys can stay," Ginny said quietly, and Harry turned to look at her so quickly his neck clicked.

"Really?" he asked, distractedly rubbing at his neck.

"Yes," Ginny said. "But I want to talk to them every night to check everything is okay. And I don't want you leaving them alone with Malfoy. If you go out, they go with you, or you ask Luna to stay."

"Malfoy's perfectly capable of looking after kids," Harry pointed out. "He's managed to raise Scorpius all by himself."

"_Harry._"

"Okay, okay," Harry conceded, knowing that now was not the time to be trying to prove a point. "Seems fair. Thank you."

She nodded and they returned to quietly drinking their tea. Harry wanted to jump up and down and laugh and hug someone; the feeling in his chest was indescribable. He'd been so bloody worried, but Draco had behaved wonderfully and Ginny had deigned to compromise, and that meant he could have his boys back. His house would be full for the foreseeable future, and he was looking forwards to it so much he felt giddy.

"Do you know when you'll be able to go back to work?" Ginny asked, draining her tea and setting the mug aside.

Harry shook his head. "No. Roberts wants me to get Malfoy to tell what he knows about what's going on with that mess that's in the papers."

"And?"

Harry set his mug down. "Well, I don't think he knows anything anyway, and right now I'd rather not push. It's not worth causing upset over, not when everyone's happy."

Ginny nodded. "Fair enough," she nodded, and then stood up straight, pulling her hair back over her shoulder. "I better be going, anyway. Neville wanted to get out in the garden and he can't really focus with Alice."

"Okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow then," Harry said, and smiled as Ginny stepped forwards and gave him a hug, arms wrapped around his chest.

"Just you be careful with Draco," she said as she stepped back, her hands on his shoulders and her expression was far too understanding for Harry's liking. "You know he's trouble."

"I'm not going to do anything that would hurt you lot or the kids," he said quietly. "They come first, always."

"I know," she said, stepping towards the doorway. "But seeing you and him today…I want you to be happy too."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry said primly, pushing his glasses back up his nose and feeling himself flush.

"Oh, come on," she said with a faint smile. "You used to hate me hovering when you cooked, but you look more comfortable than I've seen you in ages with Malfoy hovering by your shoulder. And besides, it's typical of you to pick the hardest option you possibly can instead of making something easier for yourself."

Harry couldn't do anything but gape at her as she turned to shout goodbyes up the stairs to the boys. They came clattering down and gave her swift hugs, before dashing noisily back up the stairs.

"You're a complete idiot, you know that?" Ginny said as she walked to the fireplace and reached for the pot of floo powder. "Honestly. Draco Malfoy, Harry."

He flipped her two fingers and she laughed, the sound bright and light, and then she was gone, leaving Harry with a house full of children and Malfoy. He waited a whole ten seconds after Ginny had left and then jumped on the spot, hands in the air and fisted in triumph as if he'd just landed after winning a Quidditch match.

"Fucking brilliant," he beamed and set off towards the stairs to go and find his boys.

* * *

><p>He heard the familiar sounds of bickering before he'd even set foot in the sitting room and the source of the argument quickly became clear; the DVD player. All three boys were knelt down beside it, James in the middle, and Al and Scorpius flanking him. James had a very familiar DVD case in hand and the remote in the other, Al was trying to snatch the remote, and Scorpius was curiously poking at the digital LCD clock on the front of the player.<p>

"Sort it out in three or I take it all off you," Harry said mildly. Al immediately abandoned his quest to steal the remote and scrambled to his feet, running over to Harry and hugging him tightly around the middle.

"Scorpius has never seen the Lion King," he said, looking up at Harry with wide earnest eyes.

"Scar is my favourite," James announced, not bothering to turn around. "He's so cool."

"Right," Harry said, amused and also a little concerned that his eldest son favoured the all-out bad guy instead of the plethora of good creatures featured in the film. "I like Simba. He's braver."

"But he's not as clever," James said, and Harry had a sudden image of James at eleven years of age, wearing Hogwarts robes with a green and silver trim.

"I like Simba too," Al said, turning away and clambering onto the sofa. "And the monkey."

"I've never seen a monkey," Scorpius said unexpectedly, walking over and standing near the sofa, twisting the bottom of his t-shirt in his hands. "Not a real one."

"I have," Al said proudly.

"Yeah, in the zoo," James said, sitting back on his heels and pointing the remote at the television.

"James!" Al whined. "I was telling him! Yeah, we went to the zoo and saw loads of animals, and Dad let us do the thing where you feed the giraffes."

"Indeed I did," Harry said with a smile, flopping down on the sofa as the familiar tones of Kenyan song burst from the television. "James, too close."

James obediently wriggled backwards without looking away from the television, already humming along with the soundtrack. Al made a fuss of settling in at Harry's side and Scorpius perched on the edge of the sofa, mouth hanging open and eyes wide as he stared at the television in apparent wonder.

"What the hell is making that noise?"

Harry looked up to see Draco hovering in the doorway, one hand on the frame and looking startled. His eyes flicked to the screen and back, confusion growing in his countenance.

"The Lion King," Harry said, and paused, wondering why Draco was standing there instead of hiding away in his room. "You watching with us?"

"I don't know," Draco said warily, eying the antelope on the screen with some mistrust. "Why are there African animals leaping all over the place?"

"You'll see," Harry said, and to his surprise Draco simply nodded and edged into the room, looking about before selecting to sit in the large comfortable armchair that sat at a right angle to the sofa, furthest away from the television but still angled so you could easily watch. It was Ron's favourite chair but Harry forgot all about everyone else who had ever sat in the chair as he watched Draco carefully sit down and pull his feet up, tucking them under him and then grabbing a pillow to put behind him for comfort.

Harry couldn't get over how different Draco looked in comparison to when he had first arrived at Harry's house. The black eye had all but gone for starters, but it was more than just physical appearance. He appeared calmer and more relaxed, which was more than Harry could ever have hoped for considering the attitude and anger that Draco had originally exhibited. But now he seemed almost comfortable in Harry's house and in his presence – and clothes, Harry had to add – and it was enough to convince Harry that he'd done the right thing in bringing Draco here.

It was a nice feeling, Harry thought as he settled back down into the sofa, pulling a cushion out from under him. A weight that he'd not realised was resting on his shoulders dissipated, leaving him feeling refreshed and content. It seemed that it was still worth doing good things for other people in the long run, even though he was under no illusions that this mess Draco was in was far from sorted.

His attention was once again drawn away from the television as Scorpius moved, skipping across the room and clambering up into the chair to sit in Draco's lap. Draco murmured something to him and Scorpius giggled, settling into place with his head resting against Draco's chest. Harry watched them together, noting the way Draco wrapped his arms around Scorpius's middle, holding him close and safe. Draco leant down to press his mouth to the top of Scorpius's head and then looked up, his eyes meeting Harry's.

Harry looked away quickly, knowing he'd been caught out but not wanting to make a big deal of it. He suspected that Draco wouldn't appreciate being constantly observed and scrutinized, so he tried to reign in his urges to stare at Draco, focusing instead on the film.

"Can I go and sit with Scorpius?" Al whispered at his side, and Harry started, glancing back at Draco and Scorpius who were comfortably sat together in the armchair. Draco had his head leant back against the cushions, but Harry suspected he'd heard Al's request in the way he lifted his head slightly, eyes flickering over towards them.

"Not enough room," Harry said simply. "Stay here."

"Please?" Al wheedled.

"Al-"

"Plenty of room if he wants," Draco's voice said quietly. "If you don't mind."

Harry didn't even have time to look around before Al was sliding off the sofa and darting over to the armchair, apparently having no qualms about clambering up over Draco. Draco shifted so his legs weren't in as much danger of being squashed, holding out a hand to pull Al up.

There was some jostling but they settled soon enough. Draco sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, with Scorpius on his knee and Al settled in by his side, leaning against Draco's arm. Alarmingly, Harry felt his throat going tight at the sight and had to look away for a moment. When he dared look back, Draco was looking at him with the same questioning expression from earlier, a clear _is this okay with you?_ question hanging unspoken between them.

It took him a moment, but Harry realised with a jolt that yes, it was. He knew he was still protective over his kids, but he just couldn't find anything inherently wrong with Al sitting with Draco, snuggling in with him in a way he normally did with Harry. It was just like when he'd taken Scorpius to Draco; instead if it continuing to be a power struggle, it was now as if the responsibility for the kids was shared between them.

He nodded and Draco relaxed once more, settling back with a deep breath out and turning his face back towards the television.

"Can I sit with you?"

Harry turned to look at James who was still sitting on the floor with his back against the coffee table, face turned towards Harry.

"Course," Harry said and James grinned, clambering to his feet and then scampering over to the sofa, jumping on with an elbow in Harry's side and a knee in his thigh. Harry pulled him up close and James settled lying out along Harry's side with his head on his chest.

Feeling eyes on him again, Harry looked up and saw Draco was watching him. The moment their eyes met Draco looked away at the television again, cheeks going pink. Harry looked away too, fighting the urge to look back again.

The only real thing left to wonder – aside from how the kids could still want to watch this film for the trillionth time – was how all of his friends seemed to know about his feelings before he did. Did he really wear his heart on his sleeve to that extent?

As he gave in and glanced back at Draco and the boys once more, he couldn't help but think that yes, maybe he did.

* * *

><p>"So did the hyenas really eat him?" Scorpius asked with wide eyes as Draco rubbed the towel over his head, ruffling his hair. "I didn't think anything ate lions."<p>

"Well, he wasn't a very nice lion," Draco said somewhat cautiously, not entirely sure how he should proceed. Scorpius had so far never asked any awkward questions about the nature of life and death, and to be frank, Draco would have no idea what to tell him lest he got upset. Draco could still remember how terrified he'd been when, at the age of seven, his father gave him a brief summary of Grandfather Abraxas's 'passing'. Draco had then spent a whole week trying not to sleep, convinced that he might die if he did. Only an intervention from his mother had calmed him down and made him realise that he didn't risk dying simply by going to bed.

"He did try and to kill Simba," Scorpius said contemplatively, swinging his feet so his heels bumped Draco's shins.

"Try to or try and, not try and to. Stop wriggling," Draco said mildly, grabbing Scorpius and pulling him more securely onto his knee before returning to dry Scorpius's hair, towelling it vigorously. Scorpius made a noise of protest and pushed Draco's hands and the towel away.

"Arrête, Papa," he said, a whine evident in his tone. "I'm dry."

"Almost," Draco said, sifting his fingers through Scorpius's hair. It was still slightly damp but the evening was warm so he wasn't too worried.

"Where is your wand?" Scorpius asked curiously. "Magic it dry."

"I don't have it right now," Draco said honestly, feeling his stomach clench. He still wasn't entirely used to not having his wand. Simple tasks like getting Scorpius washed and ready for bed seemed to take forever, and he often found himself having to pause and think about how he would go about doing something that was relatively simple without magic.

"Did you l- l- lose it?" Scorpius asked through a yawn as Draco reached back to grab Scorpius's pyjamas. Well, the pyjamas that Potter had provided that he suspected belonged to Al anyway. It was odd thinking of Scorpius sharing things with Al, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. In reality, he was a little bewildered by how much Al seemed to have taken to him, nevermind Scorpius. When Al had requested to sit with them earlier he'd offered for Scorpius's sake, but it had felt odd having two small figures curled up with him instead of the usual one. And the way Potter had kept looking at them…it had made Draco feel strange in a way he couldn't pinpoint.

"No. Harry has it. He's looking after it so I don't lose it," he said half-truthfully. "Come on. Bedtime."

"Non, Papa!" Scorpius protested. "I'm not tired."

"Liar," Draco said flatly, and passed him the pyjamas. "Bedtime."

Scorpius scowled but took the garments, slipping off Draco's knee and getting dressed for bed with a bad grace and a pout.

"Al's already in bed," Draco pointed out, and Scorpius's scowl faded, replaced with something more contemplative as he tried to work out whether he should argue some more or not.

"Can I stop with him?" he eventually asked, his expression hopeful.

The question was simple and innocent but Draco still felt his heart sink, feeling inordinately saddened and even a little scared at the implication. He looked down at Scorpius for a moment longer, reaching out to straighten the collar of his pyjamas, wanting to pull him close into a hug. "Yes," he finally said, startled to find a lump in his throat.

"Come tuck me in?" Scorpius asked, stepping back and pulling on Draco's fingers.

"Of course," Draco said, and allowed Scorpius to tug him forwards off the edge of the bed and out of the room along the landing. In truth Draco didn't want Scorpius to spend the night in the spare bed in Al's room, he wanted Scorpius to stay with him just like he always did. But Scorpius and Al were rapidly becoming fast friends – the bond even stretching as far as to compel Al to sit with _Draco_ just to be with Scorpius – and Draco didn't have it in him to take that away from Scorpius, no matter what he might want.

"Go quietly," he murmured as Scorpius pushed open the door to Al's room and peered around the edge.

"Al," he whispered loudly. "Al."

"Don't wake him up," Draco said firmly, his voice low. "He'll get a surprise in the morning when he wakes up."

He couldn't see Scorpius's face but he did as he was told and moved across the room without any more noise, although he did turn back to look across at Al more than once. Draco couldn't help but follow suit; as he glanced over he saw Al was fast asleep, curled under his blankets with his arm atop the duvet and wrapped loosely around a small stuffed Kneazle. He looked peaceful and content and Draco couldn't help but smile faintly. Even though he'd sworn that he would never like any small child but Scorpius, he felt strangely connected to the miniature Potter after their bonding session that day. He couldn't help but feel proud of himself that the kid trusted him even when other people didn't. See, he couldn't be all that bad if Al Potter liked him. He felt even prouder of the fact he'd apparently not done too bad a job raising Scorpius, considering how quickly and easily Scorpius had made friends with the Potter children and won Harry over.

"Papa."

He turned his attention back to Scorpius who was clambering into the bed by the window, kicking back the pale blue duvet and looking at him expectantly. Draco stepped over and knelt down beside the bed, automatically reaching out to pull the blankets up over Scorpius's shoulder. His throat still felt too tight and he had to fight down the urge to suggest Scorpius stop with him instead. It was Scorpius's choice to make, not Draco's.

"Time to sleep," Draco said softly, reaching out to smooth Scorpius's hair back from his forehead. Scorpius must have been tired because he just nodded.

"I miss panda," he said quietly, and Draco smiled sadly.

"I know."

Scorpius fingered the edge of his blanket, looking worried. "Do you think he is okay by himself?"

"I think," Draco said quietly, taking hold of Scorpius's hand, "he'll have found the spare key, unlocked the door and gone for tea and biscuits with Mrs Gamp."

"Really?" Scorpius looked hopeful.

Draco nodded, smiling tiredly. "She'll be wondering where you've gone. Not had to look after you for a while."

"I like you and Harry looking after me more," Scorpius said. "Do we live here now?"

Draco faltered. Scorpius was watching him with sleepy yet curious eyes, waiting for an answer, and he didn't know what to say. Bollocks. He couldn't tell Scorpius they were going home because he didn't know if they could, but to tell him they would stay with Potter – once Draco told Scorpius he knew he wouldn't be able to just change his mind and leave. That wouldn't be fair.

That was assuming that Potter really wanted them there anyway.

"We're staying here for a while," he finally said, running his thumb over the back of Scorpius's hand.

"How long?"

Draco sighed internally. "I don't know," he said truthfully. "But quite a while. Maybe a long time."

"I like it here," Scorpius said, pulling at Draco's hand and pressing his face to his fingers, nuzzling into his skin.

"I know you do," Draco said leant over to kiss him on the forehead before gently extricating his hand from Scorpius's grip. "Now go to sleep."

Scorpius nodded and settled down, shutting his eyes and huffing out a sleepy sigh. Draco watched him for a moment, not quite willing to leave and feeling slightly upset that Scorpius hadn't asked him to stay. Draco couldn't help selfishly wishing that Scorpius wouldn't have been able to settle, purely because he was used to having him at his side as he slept. But Scorpius was nearly five and Draco couldn't hold him back just because he was a complete wuss.

He shook his head, carefully climbed to his feet and quickly walked away, only looking back once to check that both boys were okay. He left the room and half shut the door, breathing out deeply and trying to convince himself that Scorpius would be fine without him.

"Okay?"

He jumped a little at the sound of Potter's quiet voice and turned to see him standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, casual as you please. He looked as though he'd been there for a while, and Draco's stomach clenched at the thought of Potter eavesdropping on the conversation he'd just had with Scorpius, most particularly his admission that they'd be staying. It wasn't his place to make that decision; it was Potter's house.

"We can put a bed for him in your room if you want," Harry said, correctly interpreting half of Draco's discomfiture.

Draco sighed. "I know. But he's happy in there. No need to pass my insecurities onto him. I'll give him a few more years before I damage his emotions beyond repair."

"You're hard on yourself."

Draco turned to face Potter fully, raising an eyebrow at him. "Well my lifestyle isn't really one suited for bringing up well rounded children. He already has a pathological fear of being left by himself."

"One of my kids seems to have a pathological fear of having his feet on the floor," Harry shrugged, and Draco laughed shortly. "Could be worse."

Neither spoke for a while, until Draco reached forwards to close to the door to Al and Scorpius's room, leaving it open a fraction as he knew they preferred. Feeling nerves knotting his stomach, he turned to face Harry who was looking at him intently.

"Did you mean it?" Harry suddenly asked, looking at Draco intently. "About staying."

Realising that Potter had indeed been eavesdropping, Draco looked at the floor, strangely relieved that Potter had brought it up. "Well. It's up to you, isn't it?"

"It's up to both of us," Harry said, shifting and crossing one of his legs over the other. "I'm happy to have you here, if you're happy to stay."

Draco knew he should just take the offer and go with it but he couldn't, it wasn't that simple. Scorpius was fast getting to the stage where he was both clever enough to work out what was going on and old enough so that he would remember these experiences. Draco couldn't just go along with something and hope it would work out for the best; he had to be assured that Potter meant what he was saying.

"But for how long?" Draco asked. "A week? A month? I don't know how long it's going to take-"

"You can stay here for a year if you need," Harry said impatiently. "Two years. Five years. I said I'd see this through and I meant it."

A startled '_oh_' was all Draco could manage. He stared at Potter who smiled wanly at him, waiting for him to say something more than a single utterance of sound. Draco couldn't quite process the fact that Potter was willing to have them there for years. Draco hadn't thought about _years_ in what felt like forever – he only thought about tomorrow, maybe next week. But years – god, that would mean safety, mean something like a home, mean that Scorpius might even be able to go to school. Provided Draco would let him go long enough to spend a day at school, he thought distractedly. It meant decent food and not having to be scared and not being controlled by the boss, not feeling indebted to someone who only saw him as a commodity in a business-

"Well?"

Draco blinked at Potter, who was now looking at him somewhat uncertainly, as if Draco would still say no rather than simply having a slight short-circuit of the brain.

"You mean it?" he asked, hardly daring to believe it. "You really mean it?"

"Gryffindor honour," Harry said with a twitch of his lips.

"_Potter._"

"Okay, okay, stop with the glaring," Harry laughed and then turned more serious. "I mean it. I said I'd see this through, so I will."

Draco nodded slowly, looking down at the floor. "Potter, I-" he began helplessly, not knowing how to feel or what to say. He had forgotten all about being angry with Harry for interfering and now all he was aware of was a helpless wave of gratitude towards the git. How had he never realised that he always felt safe when Potter was around? That wasn't something to be upset about, that was something to grab hold of and be bloody grateful for-

"Just say thank you," Harry said with another faint smile, his eyes not leaving Draco for a moment.

Draco looked back at those impossibly green eyes and suddenly, he knew that it was that easy.

"Thank you," he said quietly, and he meant it.

"You're welcome," Harry said and then paused. "So. Now we've stopped acting like we're seventeen, do you want to go and get a beer?" he asked, sounding hopeful. "Talk some more?"

Draco glanced back towards the spare room, still uneasy at leaving Scorpius although he knew he'd be perfectly safe. Al was in there with him, and Scorpius would come and find him if something were amiss. He suspected half of his reluctance was to do with nerves as well; now he'd stopped being so mad at Potter all the time they'd actually have to talk like rational beings. What if he found Potter insanely boring? What if Potter hated his sense of humour? What if they simply didn't like each other after all this that they'd been though?

Well, he'd never know if he didn't give it a shot.

The silence stretched out and Draco realised that Potter was waiting for him to reply. He'd made the suggestion, so it was up to Draco to decide whether he was going to comply or not.

"I don't drink beer."

Harry's head snapped up and as he realised that that was Draco's way of agreeing, he grinned. "Well you're not having any Jack Daniels. Good old number seven doesn't seem to be that good to you."

"Fair point. What about wine?" Draco asked, stepping forwards. "I think I'll need it."

"Probably," Harry muttered, and then pushed off of the wall and turned back towards the stairs. Draco followed him, casting one last glance back at the door to the room behind which his son was sleeping. He was fine, he told himself. Safe and sound. Which he himself probably wouldn't be in about ten minutes time if his and Potter's shared history of conversation was anything to go by.

_Stop it_, he mentally scolded himself, trying to stop his automatic negativity to suggestions that he and Harry could get on. _You're twenty-seven. Act like it._

He followed Harry into the kitchen, slipping into a chair as Harry went to the fridge to pull out a bottle of beer, setting it on the table before reaching for a wine glass. He looked altogether more relaxed than Draco had seen him in ages. Though it had been a good day for him all in all, Draco conceded. He'd got his kids back, managed to pacify his ex-wife and now had Draco on side as well.

"Red, white or pink?"

Draco cocked his head to the side thoughtfully, eyeing up the bottles that sat in the wine-rack behind the door. "Red."

Potter walked over to pull a bottle from the wine rack in the wall, and before Draco could stop him poured Draco out a glass, setting it in front of him. Draco felt himself going pink in the cheeks; he wasn't used to people pouring him drinks without expecting something in return.

"Enough?" Harry asked, and Draco nodded. The glass wasn't full by any means but he couldn't really blame Harry for keeping his measures small considering Draco's past history with alcohol. He couldn't really say anything about Harry purposefully putting the bottle down on the table well out of Draco's reach, either. A small part of him felt a little exasperated that Harry thought that he couldn't control himself, but another part of him he'd not acknowledged in a long while felt quietly appreciative that someone was almost…looking after him.

He stared down at his glass of wine as he heard the sounds of Harry opening his beer and then sitting down next to Draco. The chair creaked softly and there was the soft noise of Harry setting his wand down. Draco risked a glance up and felt his stomach tighten; there was no question that things were different between them now, and the feelings that Draco had buried deep in himself and refused to acknowledge were starting to creep back.

Starting with just how ridiculously attractive he found Harry, even though he was still a scruffy mess. He needed a good shave, Draco thought as his eyes raked over Harry's jaw, dark with stubble. Harry looked good when he was clean shaven and presentable but Draco couldn't deny the appeal of the rough-and-ready look.

"So," Harry said, and Draco started, quickly looking away. "Where do we start?"

Draco took a sip of his wine, savouring the taste. It was strange to be drinking something because it tasted good rather than drinking with the aim of getting smashed. He idly tilted his drink, swirling the deep red liquid around the sides of the glass.

"Start by saying how ridiculously crazy this whole scenario is?"

Harry laughed shortly. "Well, yeah," he agreed. "It's not working out too badly, considering."

"Considering," Draco echoed somewhat absently. Neither said aloud what the considerations from the past were, and Draco was grateful. He knew he'd done wrong and been on the wrong side, but he didn't want to over-analyse it, or even talk about it. He wanted to put it all behind him, wanted Harry to look at him as he was now; a man who was trying to fix things. A father. A decent person.

He glanced up at Harry again and saw Harry was already looking at him, something strange in his gaze. He looked away again, feeling flustered. Why did Harry keep looking at him like that? Surely him being nice wasn't that much of a big deal?

"Sorry for being a prick before," he said, suddenly just wanting to get it out there. Now he wasn't so panicked and defensive it was easy to see that he'd been unreasonable towards Harry to begin with. Hopefully Harry wouldn't hold that against him. "I was just…"

"I know," Harry said, and Draco somehow thought he did.

"I do manage to get myself in some spectacular messes," Draco said with a hollow sort of laugh.

"That you do," Harry said with a small smile. "Nobody like you for being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Draco looked at him quickly. "Is that what you think?" he asked, and Harry nodded.

"Luna told me you tried to be nice when she was in your cellar," he said suddenly, as if he couldn't keep the words in. He pushed his glasses up his nose and Draco had to look away.

"Well, yeah," he said uncomfortably.

"Should we avoid that era as a topic of conversation?" Harry said lightly, but Draco could see that he was serious. It must be hard for him as well, Draco thought as he watched Harry picking at the label of his beer bottle. Maybe harder, considering he'd had to temporarily die and everything.

Draco didn't reply. He didn't quite know what to say. He wanted so badly to ignore everything that had happened and pretend he'd never done anything wrong, but he couldn't. Even though the war felt like a lifetime away, seven years wasn't that long ago in the grand scheme of things. As much as he wanted to, they couldn't really just ignore what had happened. The war was relatively recent history and such a part of everyone's story that it wasn't just going to go away. In a way it had made them who they were today, Draco supposed.

Harry's eyes flicked to him and Draco realised he'd been silent for far too long. Shit. He didn't want Harry to think he was upset because he'd brought the war up, but he didn't want to have talk about it-

"You know that's a sign of sexual frustration," he blurted out suddenly as he watched Harry scratch his thumb down the side of his bottle.

"You what?" Harry asked, hands stilling and sounding confused.

"Picking at labels," Draco said, feeling his cheeks heat a little and wondering why the _hell_ he had just said that. Christ, he was awful at small-talk. He could have mentioned Quidditch or the weather but no, apparently his mouth was working without being regulated by his brain. "Well, people say anyway."

"Oh," Harry said, and then laughed. He ran his thumb gently over the ridges in the bottle and smiled ruefully. "They're probably right."

Draco took a mouthful of wine, hoping to distract himself from the fact he was talking to Harry about _sex_, of all things. "No queue of eligible suitors lining up to jump into the bed of the Chosen One?" he asked, cringing as he heard his voice waver slightly.

Harry shot him a look that was half flat, half amused. "If we're going to get on you have got to stop calling me that."

Draco took the hint. "Alright, if you insist," he said with feigned disinterest and Harry rolled his eyes. He took a mouthful of beer, set the bottle aside and then to Draco's surprise proceeded to answer Draco's question.

"Well, Ginny got pregnant with James the minute we left school, and then we got married. Al was born three years later and we got divorced right after that…" Harry shrugged. "Not much time for dating when you're trying to raise kids and not piss off your ex-wife. And it's not easy picking up blokes when you have photographers lurking around trying to catch you doing exactly that."

Draco blinked at him, his stomach swooping like he'd just missed a step. God, he couldn't get over Harry talking about blokes so casually. "So I take it that's the reason that you got divorced?" he asked lightly.

Harry nodded and then laughed, the self-depreciation evident in the sound. "I should have done what you did and checked beforehand," he said.

"Well I knew I was gay," Draco said with a raised eyebrow. "So I was checking I could actually sleep with a woman. You should have checked with a man."

Harry caught his eyes, looking at him carefully for a moment before laughing again and shaking his head. "I probably should have done."

"I take it you had no idea you liked men, considering you got married and had kids," Draco said, trying to keep the conversation casual and not give away the fact he was gagging for more information.

"No," Harry said. "Not until just before Al was born. Things weren't right, but I thought it was normal, you know?"

"What changed?"

Harry rubbed his chin with his fingers and Draco's eyes were drawn to the stubble again. "Too much beer and a bet that was supposed to embarrass me instead of enlighten me. Ron doesn't know whether to apologise or take the credit."

The butterflies that had been stirring in Draco's stomach all froze solid. He gaped at Harry with his wine forgotten halfway to his mouth. "You and-?"

"Oh god, no!" Harry exclaimed, pulling a face. "No, no, Ron made the bet. It was a joke about me being terrible at pulling, and it got out of hand…"

"So Weasley always knew?" Draco asked, feeling extraordinarily relieved. He set his drink on the table and then picked it up again, feeling oddly vulnerable without something to occupy his hands.

"I think so," Harry said, and then cleared his throat. "What about you?"

Draco shrugged. "I always knew," he said. "When Theo and Blaise started staring at Pansy's tits I was distracted watching arses."

Harry laughed and the butterflies restarted flapping around Draco's stomach and chest with a vengeance. He'd just made Harry laugh and they had been talking without any insults for ages. This not acting like a seventeen year old brat was really working out well for him.

"So when did Ginny find out?" Draco asked curiously. "I can't imagine that going down well."

Harry grimaced. "It didn't," he admitted. "I told her when she was in labour with Al."

"You did what?" Draco asked in disbelief, leaning forwards slightly.

Harry smiled wanly. "Yeah, not my finest hour. I'd been trying not to think about it for months and then it all came to a head. Emotions running high, Ginny screaming blue murder at me. It just slipped out."

"You really do have a death-wish," Draco frowned, sitting back in his chair. "Messing with the Dark Lord and then the Weasley clan. I don't know if that's bravery or abject stupidity."

He surprised himself firstly by even making the joke, but before he could panic that he'd made a faux pas – and a total arse of himself – by comparing the two experiences as equal, Harry laughed again, the sound loud and bright.

"Gin says I never do make things easy on myself," he said, still chuckling. "Something else me and you have in common."

"Mm," Draco said, and took another gulp of wine to distract himself from staring at Harry, unable to quash the thoughts that were happily commenting on how good Harry looked when he laughed. Harry had a faint yet permanent line between his eyebrows, evidence of years of worry and frowning, but when he smiled it all but disappeared and he looked younger, untroubled.

"Slow down," Harry said mildly, and it took Draco a moment to realise that he'd taken another large mouthful of wine and as such his glass was almost empty.

"Don't look so worried, I'm not trying to get smashed," he said. "Your company isn't that bad."

"Oh, thanks for the compliment," Harry said wryly, and reached for the bottle next to him. "Here."

Draco didn't question the offer, simply held out his glass for a refill. Harry obliged and then set the bottle back on the table, this time within Draco's reach.

"Can I ask you something?" Harry asked, draining his bottle of beer and then standing up to go and get another one. Draco watched him go, eyes lingering on his shoulders and the gentle slope of his back as he leant into the fridge to grab another. It was maddening as always, but now it felt different. It didn't feel like impossible longing any more. It still felt like anything happening between him and Harry was about as likely as the Canons ever winning another title, but still. Very unlikely, but not impossible.

"If I can ask you something first," he said, quickly moving his eyes away as Harry turned around with a new bottle, not wanting to be caught staring.

"What?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were gay?" Draco asked.

"Didn't want to freak you out," Harry said frankly, without so much as a hesitation. "You had enough going on."

Draco nodded, feeling unexpectedly grateful that he'd been spared the torture of having to wrap his head around Harry's sexuality when he'd been upset. He was also thanking his lucky stars that Harry hadn't said that he'd known about being gay since school. Somehow that would have been almost painful to hear.

"My turn," Harry said, as he sat back down, shoving his chair around so it fully faced Draco. He drew his wand to pop the cap off of the bottle and then propped his elbow on the table, leaving his wand next to Draco's bottle of wine. "How do you do it? The job." Harry finally asked, and the whole mood shifted from the light-hearted almost hesitant conversation they'd been having to something much more real. Draco's initial instinct was to tell Harry to shove off, that it was none of his business. However, since he'd agreed to live with Harry for the foreseeable future he supposed that they were each other's business now. Besides, in a truly convoluted way, he was starting to trust the messy-haired, speccy git.

He swallowed, and took a sip of wine before speaking. "I just do it," he said, his voice catching. He cleared his throat. "I don't think about it. I just do it and think about the fact it keeps a roof over our head. It means I can buy Scorpius toys every now and again. It means we can have a nice dinner. I don't like it, I just…I don't think about it. It's not like that was all I did anyway. It was just every now and again."

He didn't want to look up at Harry's face, to see any pity or disgust there. Instead he looked down at his hands, scratching a thumbnail along the varnish of the table. He felt strangely relieved to have finally said that out-loud, to get some of the feelings off of his chest that he'd never had chance to share.

"So it's not like…you wouldn't do it again?"

"Not if I didn't have to," Draco said honestly. "I don't personally get a wonderful sense of power from people wanting me. It's a little odd that people actually do."

"What?"

He glanced up to see Harry looking at him like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. He shifted awkwardly. "I just don't get it. I'm not, you know. Attractive."

"I think it's a matter of opinion," Harry said lightly, and Draco turned quickly to look at him, but Harry was again studying his beer bottle, though his cheeks looked a little flushed. Draco felt completely disorientated. Was Potter _flirting_ with him? Did Potter think he was attractive? Instead of asking he drained his second glass of wine and didn't hesitate to reach for the bottle; he topped his drink up and set the bottle back down, feeling flustered.

Harry cleared his throat and took a swig of beer and Draco watched his throat move as he swallowed. He couldn't even bring himself to look away now and he was staring, and as he looked up to Harry's eyes he realised that Harry was staring back, his cheeks pink and eyes bright. They both looked away and Draco gulped down another mouthful of wine as he heard Harry clear his throat. He opened his mouth to speak but then realised his mind was blank and the only words he could find were _I, fancy_, and _you._ Eyes wide, he shut his mouth, clenching his jaw tightly in an effort to keep the words inside. He could feel his heart fluttering like a bird in a cage, unable to stop thinking that maybe, just maybe Harry might look at him in the same way, despite who he was and what he'd done-

"So, how is Scorpius getting on speaking English?"

Harry broke the silence and Draco was so grateful he nearly sighed aloud. Pushing away his ridiculous thoughts concerning the possibility of Harry actually _liking_ him like that, he focussed on the question, thankful for the change in topic. Talking about Scorpius was easy. Talking – or even _thinking_ – about this weird thing that was starting to grow between him and Harry was too hard to even contemplate.

"Fine," he said, nodding. "Still gets a few bits wrong. What did he say earlier…'try and to'. Sometimes he doesn't understand that if he's got two options to say something he can't use both."

Harry smiled. "That's the same with all kids. James used to say 'please may can I have' all the time. He struggled starting to talk one language when he was younger, god knows how Scorpius manages two."

"Well, I've always spoken both languages around him," Draco said. "So it's not like he suddenly had to learn something from scratch. He picked both up as he grew."

"Couldn't believe it when I first heard you speaking French," Harry said. "Sounded odd."

"Tu n'aime pas ça?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow in question. "Ou c'est parce que tu ne peux pas me comprendre? Je t'enseignerais bien, mais, si mes souvenirs sont bons, ça te prend une éternité pour apprendre quoi que ce soit-"

"Alright, alright, stop it!" Harry said with a laugh. "Were you making fun of me?"

"A little," Draco said with a smile.

Harry smiled back, and then looked down at his knees. "I like it," he blurted out, scratching at the label of his bottle again. "Sounds…elegant."

Draco tried to talk but his tongue seemed to have tied itself in a knot. First the comment about him being attractive, and now this? He cleared his throat and tried to brush off the almost-compliment. "Even with my terrible accent?" he asked lightly, and Harry lifted his head to blink at him, again pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Sounds fine to me."

"Well you're not French," Draco said. "If you were you'd have something to say about-"

His sharp hearing caught the sound of a faint thump coming from somewhere above their heads and he paused mid-sentence, listening hard to see if anything else would follow.

"Say about what?" Harry prompted but Draco waved him away with a frown. He fell silent and sure enough there came another soft creak and then the sounds of small footsteps padding towards the kitchen, before stopping just outside.

"Scorpius?" Draco called, and then the kitchen door pushed open with a soft groan and Scorpius slipped around the edge, looking tired and upset.

"I miss panda," he said tearfully. Feeling his heart clench, Draco held out his hands and Scorpius walked over, slipping his fingers into Draco's. Draco didn't hesitate to pull Scorpius up onto his lap, settling him sideways with his head against Draco's chest, smoothing his hair back from his forehead.

"I know you do," he said quietly. He glanced up at Harry who was watching them and quietly drinking his beer but not making comment. His gaze was gentle and calm and Draco found that he no longer minded Harry being there and observing; after the events of the day it almost felt like they were in this together now. Also, hearing more about the issues Harry had had with Ginny and his kids…it didn't seem to Draco like he were competing against someone who had gotten it all perfectly right, and that made it easier.

"As-tu froid aux pieds?" he murmured, reaching down to fold Scorpius's bare toes between his fingers. Scorpius shook his head.

"Nous n'aurions pas dû déménager," he said. "Il ne saura pas où nous sommes partis."

"He's perfectly fine," Draco soothed him. "I left some biscuits for him, and he can have all the tea he wants with Mrs Gamp."

He looked up at Harry, knowing he was talking nonsense and feeling slightly embarrassed. "_Panda?_" Harry mouthed, raising an eyebrow.

"_A toy,_" Draco mouthed back with a small helpless shrug and Harry nodded in comprehension.

"I'm sure he's fine," Harry said, and Scorpius and Draco both turned to look at him. "Is he a brave panda?"

Scorpius lifted his hand to his face and slipped his fingers into his mouth. Sucking on the ends of his fingers, he nodded and managed a muffled '_oui_'. Draco looked down and gently pushed his hand away.

"Then he'll be fine. I bet he's having all sorts of adventures," Harry said, and Scorpius nodded again. He turned his face back to Draco, leaning into his chest and blinking tiredly. Draco held him close, gently rocking him back and forth and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Despite his previous resolution that he would never share Scorpius with anyone, he found himself okay with Harry's interjection; the small attempt at cheering Scorpius up was welcome rather than being an intrusion. He wasn't sure why; maybe because he was tired of trying to do everything by himself and was thankful to have someone to share the responsibility with. Or maybe it was because he now felt Harry wasn't just focussed on Scorpius; Harry quite clearly had eyes for _him_ as well.

"What did he say?" Harry asked after a while, eyes on Scorpius and expression tender.

"He said we shouldn't have moved house without telling Panda where we'd gone," Draco said, and Harry smiled.

"Does he like it here?"

"Yeah," Draco admitted. "Especially the chef," he said, and Harry's smile got a little wider. They sat in silence for a while, Harry sipping his beer and Draco taking comfort from the small familiar weight of his son in his arms. Scorpius must have been similarly soothed because within ten minutes he had gone lax and was breathing deeply and evenly against Draco's chest.

"He looks so much like you," Harry said quietly.

"He's nicer than me," Draco said ruefully. "He understands concepts such as sharing and manners. Not entirely sure where he learnt that from. Sure as hell wasn't me or Mrs Gamp."

"Stop being so hard on yourself," Harry said, tone insistent, and then frowned. "Who's Mrs Gamp?"

"She lives opposite us. She's really old and grumpy but she looks after Scorpius when I'm out. He always comes back in one piece, so she can't be that bad."

"I did wonder where he went when you were out," Harry admitted, and Draco looked up at him, faintly amused.

"You really think I'd leave him by himself?"

"I see that now," Harry said, and Draco laughed softly before sobering up somewhat. He looked down at Scorpius to check he was still asleep, idly wondering why he was so upset. He suspected it was half missing that damn panda-bear and half because of the recent upheaval to their lives. Everything was different now, and even if it were better it didn't mean it was easy on him to have everything change.

Although it were probably easier for Scorpius to deal with change than he personally did, he thought ruefully. He'd nearly had an aneurism trying to deal with getting on with Harry, and the whole situation had made Draco painfully aware of just how immature he still was, compared to other people his age. Becoming a father and being on his own had forced him to grow up in many ways, but he still didn't have much experience with socialising or even simply getting on with people.

There was no question in his mind that he'd very soon have to get used to being around people; he knew by the photos that adorned the walls of the house that Harry had lots of friends, and he didn't for a moment expect Harry to forgo socializing just because Draco didn't like it, especially if he were there for an extended period of time.

All in all, he didn't really mind. It would be hard, but a small price to pay for what he got in return; safety and somewhere he could almost call home. It wasn't like he wouldn't have privacy whilst staying with Harry; he had his own room and bathroom which he could retreat away to – as long as Harry remembered to bloody knock before he entered the room.

No, the only issue with staying was that he had left certain things behind at the flat. Panda, for one. The fifty or so galleons that he'd managed to save and hide behind the old gas cooker. Their clothes. It wasn't a lot, but it was theirs, and he wanted it back fiercely.

"I need to go back."

He said it without really thinking about it, the words sounding distant and like someone else had said them. Realising he had spoken aloud, he looked up just in time to see Harry's incredulous expression.

"Are you bloody kidding me-?" he began hotly, and Draco realised that Harry thought he meant he wanted to leave and go back to his old life. He cut him off, feeling a little alarmed.

"Just to the flat to collect some stuff," he said hastily, and Harry abruptly shut his mouth. "Christ, calm down. You'll burst an artery with all that misplaced Gryffindor rage."

Harry shook his head though he looked relieved, sinking back into his chair and visibly relaxing. "You change your mind so damn quick I thought you meant-"

"I know what you thought. I just meant I want to go back and pick up our stuff. Panda can't live on biscuits forever," he said, attempting a joke.

Harry's mouth flickered in a weak smile, but he didn't laugh. His expression quickly turned thoughtful, the frown line reappearing between his eyes. "Do they know you live there? Your boss?"

Draco nodded. "Yes."

"Then you can't go back," Harry said bluntly. "It's too dangerous."

"Potter, you can't keep me prisoner here," Draco said, a warning edge to his voice. "That's not how this is going to work."

"I know, but-" Harry picked agitatedly at the beer bottle again, looking frustrated. "I don't want to make this any messier than it has to be. It's my job on the line if I interfere with all this."

"I'm not asking you to interfere," Draco said, feeling a little desperate and hoping that Harry wouldn't be completely stubborn. "I just want our stuff. I nicked that sodding panda for Scorpius a year ago and he bloody loves it."

He cut himself off, feeling a lump in his throat. Christ, what was with him getting so over-emotional? It was just a damn stuffed toy; he could just get Scorpius a new one. Although it wouldn't be the same, he thought as he pressed his mouth to the top of Scorpius's head again, breathing in and out deeply.

"I'll think about it," Harry said quietly, and Draco jerked his head up. "You know I'd do it now if it were just about you. But it's not, it's bigger than that so I've got to be careful. And I don't want to put you in a position where you might get hurt."

Draco stared at him and Harry held his gaze for a moment and then looked away with a shrug. He mumbled something that Draco didn't catch, cheeks going pink, and Draco realised that Harry actually meant it, that he really didn't want Draco to get hurt again. He blinked at Harry and then with a jolt realised that he actually believed him.

"I wouldn't ask if it were just for me," he said, and Harry's eyes flickered back to Scorpius.

"I know."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both lost in their thoughts. Draco thought he understood why Harry was reluctant to let him return to his flat, and in all honesty he was scared to go back anyway. He just thought that maybe if Scorpius had some of his own stuff here he'd settle a bit better, and it would make the transition easier for him. He'd settled well enough in Draco's arms but Draco knew in his heart that as Scorpius grew older it wouldn't be good for him to be coming to Draco every night.

"I better put him back to bed," he finally said after a while. Harry looked up and nodded, and Draco carefully got to his feet, relieved that Scorpius didn't so much as make a whimper. He slept on, his mouth slightly open and his small arms dangling down by his sides.

Harry quickly moved around them to hold open the kitchen door and Draco nodded his thanks and he shifted Scorpius a little so his head was leaning on Draco's shoulder rather than pressing into his neck. He made to walk by, but as he brushed close to Harry, something made him stop.

"I know I've not been easy to get on with," he said, his voice low and quiet. "But I mean it. Thank you."

And before he could think about it or second guess himself any further, he leant over and quickly kissed Harry on the cheek before turning away and walking out of the kitchen without looking back, his own cheeks flushed pink and his heart skipping strangely inside his chest.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"…an interview with the star flyer of the Kestrels coming up in an hour's time, after the news and your Wizengamot political update, checking in with the…"

Already awake, Harry propped himself up on his elbow to turn the radio alarm off and pick up his glasses, rubbing his eyes before slipping them onto his nose. He breathed out deeply, trying to find some sort of a conclusion within the thoughts that were rolling around his head and had been doing so since he woke up an hour ago, unable to fall back to sleep. He had a good idea as to why.

He lifted his hand and once again touched the spot on his face where Draco had kissed him the night before. He'd be so stunned when it had happened he'd not managed to say a word for a full five minutes afterwards. Draco hadn't returned downstairs after settling Scorpius back to sleep, so Harry had simply collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table, falling forwards and letting his forehead hit the table with a thunk.

Draco had kissed him. Had said thank you and_ kissed him_, knowing full well that Harry was gay. Was it a hint? Did Draco actually like him, like him? Or was it just a thank you? Whatever it had been it had electrified Harry's insides like a concentrated Cheering Charm, making him feel giddy and wonderful and also slightly bewildered.

He couldn't help but wonder if Draco suddenly being so nice – and kissing him on his face, Christ – had anything to do with Draco wanting to go back to his flat. He wouldn't put it past seventeen year old Draco to try and manipulate someone like that, but in all honesty Harry didn't know if Draco had it in him to be as devious as he had once been.

Going back to the flat could be a really stupid idea, Harry thought, flopping back onto his pillows. He was wary because he didn't know where it was or who could possibly be lurking about, and he was always uncomfortable in situations in which he wasn't fully in control.

And bollocks, he still needed to talk to Ellis about what Draco had said concerning the Aurors. He might be focussed on getting Draco's life back on track but he couldn't forget about sorting his own as well, and that firstly meant being able to go back to work.

"Right," Harry said aloud, making up his mind. He would go talk to Ellis, and then decide what to do about fetching Draco's stuff. He made it all the way to the shower and was busy washing his hair and humming tunelessly to himself when the first snag in his plan occurred to him.

"Shite," he muttered as he dipped his head under the spray. Going to see Ellis was relatively straightforward – despite the fact he'd have to sneak into the department considering he was suspended and all – but the logistics of getting out of the house was the complicated part.

Ginny had given him two very clear options regarding leaving the house whilst Draco was there, which meant he just couldn't nip out despite the fact he trusted Draco to look after the kids. It wasn't that he trusted Draco to behave wonderfully one hundred per cent of the time; it was that he knew Draco would always put the kids first no matter what. But Ginny had said no, and Harry didn't want to give her any reason to take the boys away again.

He ran a hand through his hair to rinse the last of the shampoo out, thinking hard. Taking the boys into the offices was not an option. He had done that once and it had been a nightmare; Al had spent the whole time crying and had gotten so worked up he'd thrown up on Ellis's desk, and James had spent the entire time crawling around under peoples desks and had caused much embarrassment when Harry eventually caught him peering out from under a desk straight up Valerie's skirt.

A replay of that was definitely not welcome – although Harry was quite partial to the idea of sending the boys to say 'hello' to Adam Campbell – so that left option two.

He turned the shower off and stepped out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his hips, picking up another and towelling himself off. The morning was warm already, and sunlight was pouring in through the windows. It would be a glorious day to go on a trip to the beach or take the kids swimming, Harry thought as he rubbed the towel over his hair and then reached for his wand to dry it properly. He couldn't help but wonder if Scorpius could swim – actually, could Draco even swim? Harry couldn't imagine it, though his mind helpfully supplied him with images of Draco in swimming trunks, all pale skin and long slender limbs…

"Behave," he told himself firmly, banishing his inappropriate thoughts. He had stuff to do today and couldn't waste his time daydreaming. He summoned his glasses from the shelf above the sink and slipped them on as he walked over to the bathroom door. Holding onto the towel around his waist with one hand, he pushed open the door with the other and padded along the landing towards the stairs that would lead up to his bedroom at the top of the house, built into the old attic.

He had barely put his foot onto the first step when a noise caught his attention; he turned around just in time to see the door to the spare room open. For a fraction of a second he froze in place, wondering what the hell he would say to Draco when he was only wearing a towel – but it wasn't Draco who appeared on the landing.

Amused, he watched James, Al and Scorpius all tiptoe out of the room, obviously trying to be quiet. He cleared his throat all three boys whipped around, looking somewhat guilty.

"And what are you three up to?"

"Seeing if Scorpius's dad was awake," James said, shifting from foot to foot.

"He says he's not getting up yet," Al added. "Scorpius asked."

"I'm not surprised, seeing as it's eight in the morning," Harry said dryly, lips twitching. "Leave him alone."

"He won't mind," Scorpius chipped in eagerly. "He tells me to wake him up."

Harry smiled at him. "Yes, but normally you don't get up until much later," he said with a laugh. "Go on. Downstairs. I'll come and make you breakfast in a minute."

"I can do it!" James shouted, pushing past Al and heading for the stairs, going as fast as he could and from the sounds of things, jumping down the last three steps anyway. Al and Scorpius immediately followed, Scorpius reaching out to steady himself with a handful of Al's shirt and probably increasing their chances of falling more than anything.

Harry laughed softly as he turned away, climbing the stairs to his room. The dynamics between the children had already been altered more than he'd anticipated by adding Scorpius to the mix, but it didn't seem to be working out that badly. Al was obviously thrilled that he had a new friend, and James seemed to be alright with it for now. Harry would just have to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't get jealous or upset by the fact Scorpius spent more time with Al.

He shut the door behind him and walked over to his cupboard, smiling at the picture of Al and James that were busy pulling faces at him from their frame. He opened the top drawer with the aim of finding some clean underwear, but stilled in place as something rolled forwards, hitting the front of the drawer with the soft clack of wood on wood.

Without thinking about it, he reached it and carefully picked up the familiar length of hawthorn, sliding it between his fingers. He'd always vowed to find a better hiding place for Draco's wand than in his pants drawer but had just never got around to it. The wood still felt warm beneath his fingers in a way that no-other wand but his own ever had. He took a firmer grip on it and flicked it up towards the ceiling; sure enough a few silver sparks burst from the end of the wand, glittering serenely in the light and fading after a few seconds.

Harry hesitated, for some reason unwilling to shut the wand back in the drawer as he'd done every morning so far since Draco had arrived. He'd told himself he would keep the wand to make sure Draco didn't hex him or run away, but as he reached up absently to touch his cheek again, he couldn't help but think that maybe it was about time he trusted Draco not to do either of those things.

Making up his mind felt like he was stepping off of a cliff edge with his eyes shut. He did it anyway, abruptly grabbing some clean underwear before shutting the drawer and tossing Draco's wand onto the bed alongside his own, breathing out deeply and ignoring the niggle of doubt in the back of his mind. Giving it back was the right thing to do.

Looking back to check the door was shut, he dropped his towel and walked over his wardrobe, pulling it open and quickly selecting the first clean clothes he could find. He needed to do some washing, he thought distractedly as he tugged a t-shirt over his head, knocking his glasses askew in the process. Considering that Draco had taken to wearing's Harry's clothes as well as his own, Harry was running a little low on decent things to wear.

He sat on the edge of his bed as he pulled his socks on and slipped his watch onto his wrist, and as he did the wands rolled with the movement. They settled next to his hip with a gentle nudge, as if they were prodding him to just get on with it. He hesitated for a second, and then grabbed them both, standing up and making his way to the door. He slipped Draco's wand into his pocket but kept his fingers on his own, feeling marginally calmer with it in hand.

Heart thudding in his chest and stomach fluttering with nervous anticipation, Harry moved quickly down the stairs and onto the landing, walking over to knock on Draco's bedroom door before he could talk himself out of it.

There was no answer, so Harry knocked again and then pushed open the door somewhat cautiously. He smiled somewhat ruefully as he saw the room was completely empty. The bedcovers were thrown back and the bathroom beyond was also unoccupied, the door wide open. Harry shook his head in mild amusement as he realised that the kids must have succeeded in waking Draco up, at – he checked his watch – half eight in the morning. Not early for him, but definitely early for Draco.

He dithered for a moment, hand on his hip where Draco's wand lay hidden in his pocket. Should he really be trusting Draco just because he'd kissed him? Was that a really stupid thing to do?

Well, his friends all said he had a good heart underneath his occasional bouts of abject stupidity, Harry thought. That should be good enough reason to just follow it and ignore his brain, right? He made himself move again, aware that he not only had to talk to Draco but also firecall Luna, think about going into work and also make sure James hadn't started a cereal based apocalypse in the kitchen.

He needed have worried about the cereal; when he got downstairs the three children were happily digging into overflowing bowls of owl crispies, and there only seemed to be a few on the floor. The milk jug was perilously close to the edge of the table though, and Harry hastily flicked his wand at it to move it out of range of Scorpius's elbow.

Draco was sat at the end of the table, yawning widely and looking knackered. He had a cup of tea in front of him and he was leant on the table on his elbow, head propped on his fist and looking like he was about to fall asleep then and there. Scorpius was talking to him in English and Draco was nodding and making a half-arsed attempt at a 'hmm' every now and again when Scorpius seemed to require an answer. As Harry watched he yawned again and reached up to fiddle with one of his earrings before rubbing his face and turning his attention back to Scorpius, who was saying '_Papa, listen!_' and looking impatient.

Harry took a step forwards and James spotted him instantly. "Dad, I want tea!" he called, brandishing his spoon in Harry's direction.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And does James get stuff just because he wants?" he asked pointedly.

James frowned. "Can I please have tea?" he tried, shooting a hopeful smile in Harry's direction as Al joined in, also clamouring for a hot drink around a mouthful of cereal.

"Course you can, just give me a minute," Harry said and took a deep breath, turning towards Draco who was watching him quietly from the end of the table. "Draco – can I have a word?"

Draco's expression turned wary in an instant. He eyed Harry with trepidation and then when Harry didn't offer any further explanation he nodded, slowly getting up off his chair. He murmured something to Scorpius, brushing his head with his hand and then followed Harry out of the kitchen, jaw clenched and expression guarded.

Harry stopped just outside the door, wanting to keep half an ear on the boys in case James decided he was grown-up enough to attempt making his own tea by himself. His heart was once again fluttering strangely in his chest as Draco stopped just in front of him, arms folded across his chest and eyebrows knitted in a worried frown.

"Is this about last night?" he asked before Harry could say anything, looking embarrassed and awkward. "God, I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry, I didn't think-"

It took Harry a moment to realise that Draco was talking about the kiss. His mouth fell open and for a few seconds he couldn't form words. As if Draco really thought he would be complaining about _that_.

"God, no," he managed with a short shaky laugh. "It's not about that. Don't apologise for that."

It was Draco's turn to be surprised. "Really?" he asked cautiously. "Then what's it about? Going to get my stuff?"

Harry tried to think of something to say and then decided against it. Instead, he answered by shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling out Draco's wand, holding it out without a word.

Draco's mouth fell open, and Harry resisted the urge to laugh. Draco looked up at him, and then back down at the wand before reaching out with a trembling hand.

He paused, his fingers millimetres from the wood. "If you give me it back, you're not allowed to take it again," he said, his expression determined and voice serious. "I mean it."

Harry hesitated, and then nodded. "Okay."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Draco moved the last few centimetres to take his wand back, and Harry watched as his face broke into a wide smile, making him seem younger and untroubled. He ran his fingers down the length of wood, looking slightly awed.

"It still feels like mine," he said quietly. "I wouldn't be surprised if it thought it was yours, considering how many times you've ended up with it."

Harry had the good grace to flush. "I can still use it," he admitted. "It works well for me."

"Good job, really," Draco said, and then looked up at Harry, his face sincere and honest. "Thank you," he said, before adding, "even though you're a bastard for taking it in the first place."

Harry smiled ruefully, scratching his back of his head. "Yeah well. Can't blame me for thinking you were going to try and kill me when you first got here. In fact I'm pretty sure you _did_ threaten to murder me."

"Well, obviously I didn't mean it," Draco said distractedly, his attention on his wand. "I was just mad at you." He twirled his wand between his fingers and then waved it towards Harry, making a shower of bubbles burst from the end, popping as they landed on Harry's head and chest. "Why now?" he asked as he watched Harry reach up to swat one of the bubbles, almost smiling. "Why give it back?"

Harry paused, wondering if he should shrug and gloss over the reasons as to why he'd chosen to return the wand. But, considering they were still getting the wrong idea about the other's intentions – Draco thinking that he should apologise for the kiss was proof enough of that – maybe now was the time to start being honest. As he watched Draco fingering the wood with something almost like reverence, he decided to tell the truth, even though he'd barely acknowledged it himself.

"Because now I'm not scared you'll run away," he said quietly.

The last of the bubbles popped but neither noticed. Draco was staring at him, eyes intense.

"How do you know I won't?"

Harry swallowed, unable to look away. Draco was too close, really. "Because I think you like Scorpius being safe and having friends. And I think you want to stay, too."

Draco bit his lip. "Well aren't you a know it all," he said after a moment, and he was basically admitting that Harry was right, and he was still right there looking Harry in the eyes, and one of them had moved closer, Harry wasn't sure which.

His breathing was shallow in his chest as he looked down to Draco's mouth and back up again. Draco wasn't backing off and suddenly Harry realised what all those odd fleeting glances meant. A tingle went down his spine because at that moment he _knew_ Draco felt the same and wanted to kiss him just as much-

Draco took a hesitant step forwards and Harry reached out without thinking, his fingertips brushing Draco's cheek. Draco shivered slightly but didn't look away and Harry was moving closer, so close that he could feel Draco's breath on his face-

"Da-ad, you said you'd make tea."

The moment broke like shattering glass; Harry and Draco both instantly stepped back and away from each other as James burst through from the kitchen, looking impatient. Draco turned his face away, a pink flush staining his cheekbones.

"Yeah, okay," Harry said distractedly, feeling flustered. "I'm coming."

James pushed back through the door to the kitchen, and Harry dared look up at Draco. Draco was already looking at him, his expression hesitant and laced with something that Harry thought could almost be disappointment.

"We should," he said awkwardly, gesturing towards the kitchen. Harry nodded quickly, feeling disconcerted and suddenly like he was sixteen all over again. Draco took a tentative step forwards and then seemed to regroup, edging past Harry and into the kitchen without looking back.

"Fuck," Harry mouthed silently, his hands on the back of his head. His heart was still thudding in his chest and he couldn't help but wish that James was old enough to have made his own bloody tea, if only to give him and Draco another minute alone.

* * *

><p>Harry went upstairs to call Luna, unlocking the living-room floo for the first time since Draco had arrived. He didn't quite dare go back into the kitchen – Gryffindor indeed – or anywhere near Draco.<p>

He felt like everything had been abruptly turned upside-down in the space of only a few moments. He knew he and Draco had been getting along better, knew that he fancied Draco, knew Draco had been looking at him strangely, but for anything to actually happen was something else entirely.

What would have happened if they'd kissed? Christ – he was going to have to be really careful. It wasn't like Draco was just some bloke that Harry had met in a bar – Draco _lived with him_. They both had kids who were rapidly becoming inseparable. Draco was still involved with the bloody hightops gang. They couldn't just start muck everything up for the sake of a few fleeting kisses.

God, Harry thought desperately. Where was Ron when Harry needed him? Probably at work like a normal human being, worrying about things like bills and what to have for tea and how not to annoy his wife.

Although, when Harry really thought about it, he knew deep down he didn't need Ron's advice. It was simple; the only option for him and Draco was to either stay away from each other, or try and work out something serious.

Harry faltered at that thought. He'd been in a total of one serious relationship in his life and had managed to cock that up quite spectacularly. Could he really imagine giving it a go with Draco Malfoy of all people?

Harry pushed the thoughts away and grabbed the pot of floo powder. That wasn't a question he could answer right now; he and Draco hadn't spent enough time together for him to start wondering if they'd make it as a couple. He was lucky they'd got to the point that they could spend any time together without resorting to violence. And besides, Draco was still technically a suspect in a Ministry investigation who could be set upon by a gang of organised criminals if he set a foot outside.

He threw a pinch of powder into the grate and called out Luna's address. He only had to wait a few moments before her face appeared, smiling at him happily.

"Harry!" she said warmly. "I was wondering when you'd call."

"You were?" Harry asked with a smile of his own.

"Well yes," she said. "Ginny told me you're not allowed to leave Draco alone in the house, and I assume you'll have to go out at some point or else you'll run out of food."

Harry laughed, rubbing his face and feeling knackered already. "I need to go into work," he said. "Talk to Ellis about something. Would you mind watching them for an hour? Draco's up with them but I promised Ginny…"

"Of course," Luna said, nodding eagerly. "It'll be nice to see him. Do you want me to see if Teddy's free to come over?"

Harry thought for a moment and then shook his head. It would be wonderful to have Teddy around, but it took more energy than he could currently spare to keep up with him. "Not today," he said, feeling a flash of guilt. "I think I better be here when he comes over."

Luna nodded, understanding. "Of course. Teddy's a lot to handle, isn't he? And I suppose you don't know how Draco will react to him."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, best to leave the family reunion for now," he sighed. "Maybe tomorrow. Depends how this talk with Ellis goes."

"Sounds important," Luna said gravely. "I'll be right over. Rolf's busy writing up some articles so he won't mind."

"Thanks Luna," Harry said fervently. "I owe you one."

"Don't be so silly," Luna said with a smile, and then she was gone. Harry sat back on his heels, relieved. Luna coming over meant that firstly Ginny would be kept happy, and secondly it would give Harry chance to go talk to Ellis. And a bit of time away from the house to bloody sort his head out and think.

He took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet, picking his wand up and heading towards the door and unable to stop thinking about the almost-kiss he and Draco had shared. Christ, if he'd known that giving Draco's wand back would have had such complicated effects he would have kept the damn thing locked away with his pants.

When he got down to the kitchen a feeling that was rapidly growing familiar uncurled through his chest as he saw James kneeling on the chair next to Draco, leaning across the table and listening intently to whatever Draco was saying. Harry didn't hear what it was but it made James laugh loud and bright, Draco smiling tiredly in response.

Harry leant his head against the doorframe for a moment, his chest aching with a confused jumble of feelings, unsure if he wanted to join them or run away and hide. In another life he would have jumped at the opportunity to be with someone who was so good with the boys, someone who obviously put the welfare of the children top of the priority list.

He would have happily watched them for as long as he could get away with – despite it pushing his resolve about being careful where Draco was concerned rapidly towards the brink – but his observation was interrupted as the floo suddenly erupted into green flames, the unexpected noise making them all jump a mile.

"Sorry," Luna said brightly as she stepped through, brushing herself down. She was wearing a bright sky-blue dress with a white apron and shiny red boots, reminding Harry of a slightly demented Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. "I didn't know if I could get through upstairs so I thought I'd come through here. I thought it would save me some time on the stairs anyway."

"Luna!" James called excitedly, scrambling off his chair to run and give her a hug.

"Hello, James," she laughed, hugging him back before looking up and around the room. "My my, this is a busy kitchen."

"Una! 'eek 'Orpus," Al called with a mouthful of biscuit, waving his hand in the air to try and get her attention.

"Not with your mouth full," Harry said, exasperated.

Al hurriedly swallowed his mouthful, glancing at James as if worried he would steal his announcement. "This is Scorpius," he said loudly. "Luna, look. This is Scorpius. He's my friend, and this is his dad and they're both from France."

Harry belatedly looked to Draco, having completely forgotten to consider how he might react to Luna appearing without warning. He was frozen in place, looking somewhere between shocked and dismayed. Harry winced slightly, wishing he'd had enough sense to warn Draco that she was on the way before she appeared through the floo. He opened his mouth to apologise but Luna got there first.

"Oh, don't look like that," Luna said brightly before Harry could get a word out. Draco swallowed and shut his mouth. "I actually rather like you, despite all that business at the Manor."

Draco looked from Harry to Luna and back again. "Hello," he managed feebly, and then appeared to give up. Scorpius moved from Al's side and sidled over to Draco, whispering in French and tugging at his hand, trying to climb up onto his knee.

"Hello, Scorpius," Luna said with a smile. "Goodness me, you look just like your dad."

Scorpius smiled shyly and hid it in Draco's shirt. Draco looked down on him, running a hand over his head and seeming to collect himself a little with Scorpius back in his arms. "You big baby," he said softly. "Say hello."

"Bonjour," Scorpius managed with a grin, peering out from behind Draco's arm. Draco shook his head, somewhere between fond and exasperated.

"I need to nip out for an hour or two," Harry said, and Draco turned his eyes to him, looking understandably nervous. "I didn't want to leave you in the lurch with all three boys so Luna's just come to keep you company."

Draco stayed perfectly still and then after a moment he nodded. "If Luna doesn't mind," he said, looking down at the table.

"Of course not," she said brightly, waving her wand to put the kettle on. "Do you want more tea? You look like you need some."

Draco nodded, still looking a little uncertain as Luna turned away to find some mugs, humming to herself as she went. Scorpius appeared to get over his bout of shyness, slipping off Draco's knee and joining Al and James at Luna's side, listening to the conversation – if it could be even called that with James simply talking _at_ Luna. Draco watched him go, looking torn.

Harry moved around the table over to Draco. He stopped next to him and Draco turned to look up at him, biting his lip. "If this isn't okay, I can stay here," Harry said quietly, as not to be overheard.

Draco looked down at the table, picking up his wand and turning it restlessly between his fingers. "It's Luna you should be asking," he said, trying to be casual and missing the mark by about a mile. "She didn't lock me in her cellar."

"She doesn't blame you," Harry began in an undertone, but Draco shook his head, cutting him off.

"It's okay. Go do what you have to do. I'll be fine," he said quickly, before looking up uncertainly. "Just…two hours, yeah?"

"At most," Harry said. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Just go," Draco said with the ghost of a tired smile. Harry nodded, hesitated and then turned to go. He made it as far as the door, determined to go and get it over and done with as quickly as possible, before a small cross voice made him stop in his tracks.

"Dad! Hug!"

Harry stopped, smiling guiltily. "Sorry," he said apologetically, kneeling down to Al could give him a goodbye hug. He barely had time to find his balance before he was surprised to find his arms full of not one child, but three. Slightly startled to find Scorpius squished in between James and Al, Harry dithered for a fraction and then looked up towards Draco, hoping for an indication that this was okay by him.

Draco was watching with a strange expression on his face, but as Harry looked up he nodded without a hesitation. Feeing oddly relieved, Harry wrapped his arms around the three boys and hugged them tightly.

"James, I want you to floo mum whilst I'm gone," he said as he pulled back. "Let her know you're all getting on."

"Yeah, yeah," James said. "As long as you come back in two hours."

Harry bit back a laugh and let the boys go, climbing to his feet only to look up and find Draco was still watching him. Their eyes met for a moment and Harry hastily turned away, calling a 'bye' over his shoulder without looking back.

* * *

><p>"Boo."<p>

It was worth the twenty minutes spent hiding behind the office door to see Ellis jump a mile at the sound of Harry's voice and drop the enormous stack of paperwork he was carrying. Hand going for his wand, he whipped around to see Harry straighten up with a grin and a cheery wave.

"You fucking arsehole," he snapped, rubbing his chest. "I could have hexed you."

"Coulda shoulda," Harry said dismissively, kicking the door shut and then flopping down into the chair opposite Ellis's desk. "What, no coffee?"

"What are you doing here?" Ellis asked, sounding exasperated. "Did you ask permission? You know you have to be signed in if you've been suspended."

"Of course I have," Harry lied, and Ellis rolled his eyes, waving his wand to pick up the pile of paperwork at his feet. "I came to talk to you."

"What about?" Ellis asked, heaving out a long suffering sigh and casting a woeful look over the crumpled reports in front of him. He waved his wand and they all straightened themselves out, though still looking a little creased around the edges.

"Malfoy."

Ellis groaned and flopped into his chair, covering his face with his hands. "No," he said, dropping his hands into his lap. "I don't care if you've shagged him. Go away."

"I have not shagged him," Harry butted in with a frown, although couldn't help but distractedly remember the moment in the hallway earlier that morning and Draco kissing his cheek the night before. Not that he'd be telling Ellis about that, though. The teasing was bad enough as it was.

"Then why do you insist on talking about him?" Ellis asked, sounding grumpy and restacking the files with more force than strictly necessary.

"He's involved with Hightops," Harry said flatly and Ellis paused, looking up.

"How do you know that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Kingsley told me, and Draco confirmed it," Harry said. "He then went on to tell me something quite interesting."

"Go on," Ellis said slowly, his expression still wary but his interest obviously caught. He paused and then waved his wand at the door, casting a silencing spell so they couldn't be overheard.

"Draco seems to think that there are some Aurors on the payroll for the gang," Harry said. "He panicked when I told him the Minister knew I'd seen him, because that then meant the Aurors knew which meant _his_ lot knew."

"Any names?" Ellis asked, sitting up and looking intently at Harry.

"Not yet," Harry shook his head and Ellis swore softly.

"We've thought about it," he admitted. "But Fletcher won't have any of it. Insists all of his Aurors are on the straight and narrow."

"I'd say not," Harry said, and Ellis nodded slowly.

"Where even is Malfoy?" he asked. "What have you done with him?"

Harry shrugged evasively, but Ellis continued to look at him suspiciously so he gave in. "In my house," he finally said, and Ellis sank back in his chair, staring at him in disbelief.

"You moved him into your house," he said flatly, as if trying to wrap his head around the words. "And you say you've not shagged him?"

"Hey, I don't know where this sudden reputation of me being some sort of sex fiend has come from," Harry said, annoyed. "I've not done anything to earn it-"

"Keep your knickers on," Ellis sighed, and then straightened up and went back into auror-liaison-agent mode. "Can you get him to give us any names?"

"Maybe," Harry said, thinking hard. Draco obviously didn't hate him any longer – his behaviour and that bloody kiss had to be proof enough – so he might be complaint enough to give Harry more information about his background and employment.

"He wanted me to take him back to his flat," he said slowly. "And he says his boss knows where it is. Think that could lead you anywhere?"

Ellis rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. "I don't think so," he finally said.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Well, Malfoy's been gone a while, hasn't he? Over a week?" Ellis prompted and Harry nodded. "Well then the ring has probably already cut him loose. We found another distracter that had run off but she was lip-locked down to the last secret. Which means…" he said heavily, as if he'd just realised something. "That if the ring has terminated Malfoy's employment, he won't be able to give us any names either. Shite."

"What do you mean, terminated his employment? Won't they want him back?" Harry asked, frowning.

Ellis looked at him. "Use your brain," he said impatiently. "A crime ring works on tiers for a reason. If one part of it becomes a liability, they cut them loose. They either kill them or let them go if they've got curses on them which mean they can't give any information. People like Malfoy are worth shit to them. They'll cut him out and replace him, and after a week of being gone they'll have activated all the spells on him."

"If he's not cursed, will they kill him?" Harry asked, feeling a sick flash of foreboding run through him.

"They might have done, but if word is out that _you_ have had anything to do with him, they won't risk it. Why waste time and effort on killing Malfoy under the nose of Harry Potter if he doesn't know shit anyway?"

"Oh," Harry said, feeing disconcerted to find out that Malfoy was practically worthless in the eyes of the Hightops gang, and also relieved that it appeared he was somehow free from the entire mess without having to do a single thing.

"Keep an eye on the papers, and on Malfoy," Ellis advised him. "If something big happens and it turns up in the papers, like someone from the gang gets caught or there's a break, keep him safe. If anything happens to the gang, they won't care so much about the risk."

"But you honestly think they won't come after him?" Harry pressed.

"The money is in the diamonds, not in chasing after rentboys," Ellis said flatly and Harry winced. "As long as the Aurors can't pin any of the thefts on him, he'll be fine."

"It can't be that easy," Harry said, not quite willing to believe it.

Ellis shrugged. "He's a lucky bastard to have you looking out for him," he said seriously. "The way he was going, he was likely to be disposed of."

Harry swallowed. "Good timing then."

"If that's what you want to call it," Ellis said with a grin. "Now get out of my face. Go home and see if he has any names or if he's been cursed.

"You make it sound like he's easy to talk to," Harry remarked. "He only really tells me anything when he's pissed."

"Well, get him drunk then," Ellis said with another sly smile. "Then you might be able to get your leg over as well."

"Piss off," Harry replied, standing up and resisting the urge to knock over the stack of files again. Ellis replied only with his usual two fingered salute, his nose already buried in a file. Harry rolled his eyes and left the office, looking left and right down the corridor to check there was no-one about that would shout at him for being in the vicinity whilst suspended.

The coast was clear; he slipped out of Ellis's office and made his way quickly to the apparition points down the corridor, his mind full of what he had just learned. If Ellis was right – and the arse often was, damnit – Draco was, for want of a better word, free.

It was hard to believe, but in a way it made complete sense. The crime ring had been a brewing problem for the past two and a half years and Draco had only been back in the country for around twelve months. He'd been nothing more than a pawn in their games – what was it Draco had said whilst drunk? That he'd been a chess piece, or a cog…

Suddenly the odd use of words made much more sense. Draco had known full well that he was nothing more than a commodity to the gang. Harry smiled ruefully as he thought that maybe he'd made it into a bigger deal than it was because he didn't want to think of Draco as worthless in any context. Ellis's revelation didn't explain why Draco had been so worried that the boss would track him down though; maybe he'd been threatened and told not to leave, so wouldn't consider that he'd be cut loose if he did run away? Harry didn't know.

Either way, it was welcome news. Harry immediately felt less tense; it seemed that he was no longer hiding a criminal in his house, but just helping someone who was potentially free from any involvement with the Hightops gang.

The only downside was that with Draco no longer considered an immature twat or a criminal, Harry was rapidly running out of reasons not to give in and become more involved with him than he already was.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"I'm back!" Harry called as he slammed the front door shut, locking it with his key and wand before turning to dump his keys in the bowl on the side-board. He breathed out deeply as he kicked his shoes off, grateful to be back. He was just about to check his watch, convinced he'd set a personal best for how quickly he'd managed to get home when he stopped abruptly and frowned, realising that no-one had shouted back or appeared to greet him.

Feeling slightly worried, he didn't even bother putting his shoes away before pacing towards the kitchen. It was normal for James to shout a greeting or for Al to run and jump on him, but there was neither sound nor sight of either of them. Suddenly panicking that something had happened, Harry quickened his stride, cursing himself for leaving Draco and the boys unattended. Fuck, Ginny would kill him if anything had happened, and he wouldn't be able to convince Luna to keep her mouth shut if Draco had done something or upset the boys –

His internal panic abruptly stopped as he pushed open the door to the kitchen and saw that the only issue that he _should_ be worrying about was the vast amount of washing up he was clearly going to have to do.

The kitchen table was covered in flour and countless other cake-based ingredients. Bowls and spoons littered the wooden surface and several of the countertops as well. Luna was standing near the oven, gently telling Scorpius to stand back as he hovered nearby, looking fascinated. Al was sat on the table, happily licking a wooden spoon and trying to simultaneously shout at James, who was sat stirring a large bowl of something or other and pulling faces at his brother across the table.

Draco was there too, and Harry's heart skipped a beat as he watched him methodically adding decorations to the top of an already cooked batch of cupcakes. He was watching James with careful eyes but not saying anything, and Harry instantly recognised the look of a parent who was supervising but letting a child do something for themselves. It was hard to get the knack of even now; sometimes for the sake of his sanity Harry found that it was just easier to do things for the boys, even though he knew they should be getting used to doing things by themselves.

If Harry hadn't been aware he fancied Draco before, then that moment would have hit him like a bludger to the chest. Draco was calm, collected, sober and had a streak of what appeared to be flour or icing sugar on his brow. He looked nothing like the seventeen year old brat that Harry had known; in fact, he looked nothing like the twenty-seven year old criminal Harry had first brought home. He looked content amongst the children and the chaos. He looked like a father.

As if sensing Harry's eyes on him, Draco looked up. He flushed, looking embarrassed. Harry opened his mouth to speak but before he could James called out at him, sounding enthralled.

"Dad! We made you cakes! You're back too early!"

Harry smiled and edged forwards, pulling out a kitchen chair and slipping onto it. "They smell great."

"Luna taught us how," Al said, his small face covered in chocolate. It was all around his mouth and there even seemed to be some in his eyebrow. "Can we save one for Alice?"

Harry laughed. "I think she's a bit little for cake."

"Nonsense," Luna said, appearing behind him and setting down another tray of cakes on the table. "Everyone likes cake. We've been very productive this morning. Draco has a knack for decorating."

"I do too! I decorated the green ones!" James all but shouted as Draco's blush deepened. He looked studiously down at the table, avoiding Harry's eyes.

"Yes, of course," Luna said with a smile. Appeased, James went back to stirring, almost losing his grip on the bowl in his enthusiasm.

"Has everything been okay?" Harry asked, watching James with a smile on his face.

Luna nodded, wiping her hands on her apron. "Yes, it's been a lovely morning. Draco didn't want to stay at first but he seemed happier after another cup of tea. He's been marvellous, really. I didn't expect him to be so nice to the children but he is."

Harry clamped his lips together, trying not to laugh. Draco was so red in the face it looked as though he'd been holding his breath, and Scorpius and James were both looking at him curiously. Luna either didn't notice his discomfiture or ignored it completely.

"I always said he was nice when he wanted to be," she continued happily. "You brought me cake once, remember, Draco?"

Draco cleared his throat. "Yeah," he said uncomfortably. "Once."

"He took it from the kitchens at the manor," Luna told Harry. Harry looked up at Draco again, his desire to laugh now gone, feeling something stronger and more serious swirling in his stomach. "He only brought one piece so I told him it wasn't very fair on Mister Ollivander, so Draco brought another piece down later on."

"You did?" Harry asked, somewhere between amazed and in awe. The mental image of Draco Malfoy sneaking another slice of cake down to the dungeons simply because Luna had told him to…it was ridiculous and yet still made perfect sense.

Draco shrugged, and cleared his throat. "Wasn't a big deal. They didn't miss it."

He looked up and met Harry's eyes, his cheekbones still stained pink and his expression carefully guarded as if waiting for something. He was trying to be casual but Harry knew how hard it was for him to remember those times.

Harry smiled at him. He didn't know what else to do. Draco's expression turned relieved as he wiped his face with the back of his hand, leaving yet more flour across his cheek, and then he half-smiled back.

As Draco looked back down to the cakes, Harry half-heatedly debated leaving his news until later; he didn't want to ruin the moment, not when Draco looked so content and comfortable. Harry ached to join him and the kids around the table, but deep down he knew that he couldn't just sit and play happy families purely because he was feeling selfish.

"Draco," he said, and Draco looked back up, his expression questioning.

"Can I-?" Harry asked a little awkwardly, and then changed his approach so he didn't worry Draco by asking him for another 'word'. "You might be interested in what I found out at work."

Draco seemed to understand. He nodded and brushed the last of the decorations off his hands onto a plate, looking intrigued but also a little concerned. He followed Harry out of the room into the hallway for the second time that morning.

"Come on, we'll sit upstairs," Harry said, very aware that they were standing in almost _exactly_ the same spots that they'd nearly kissed in earlier. Draco was going to start getting the wrong idea if Harry kept asking him to meet him in the bloody hallway.

"Here's fine," Draco said, crossing his arms across his chest. He reached up to brush at his fringe, looking at Harry intently. "Has something happened?"

"Yes and no," Harry admitted. "Come on. We'll go sit."

He turned and walked towards the staircase before Draco could argue anymore. He didn't pause and after a moment heard footsteps following him, not far behind.

"I went into work to see Ellis," he said as he walked into the living room, going over to perch on the edge of the sofa. Draco had stopped in the doorway and was now looking unmistakably worried.

"Who's Ellis?" Draco asked warily, one hand on the doorframe and making no indication that he was going to join Harry.

Harry sat forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. "My partner at work," he said. "I'm an obliviator – well, the technical term is a Mugge Liason Officer. Ellis is an Auror Liason Agent – which is code for Auror who couldn't be arsed to do the final exams so doesn't get the full title or robes."

Draco raised an eyebrow but then stepped into the room and clambered into the armchair, pulling his legs up underneath him. "Sounds like he's an idiot."

"He's not," Harry said, feeling ridiculously relieved that Draco had decided to sit down and listen to what he had to say. "He didn't want the pressure of being a full ranked Auror, so he went for Auror Liason."

"Which means?"

"He does low scale crime, breaches of Statute of Secrecy, helps out the Aurors when then need extra men and whatnot."

Draco nodded. "The guys that pick wizards up when they're being a nuisance?"

"Exactly," Harry said, and then paused. "You met him. When you got arrested once, he came to speak to you. I was outside."

"You were?" Draco asked, looking astounded. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I freaked out," Harry admitted, looking away and picking at the corner of a cushion. "I'd just found out why you'd been arrested, and I didn't know what to do."

"So you ran away," Draco said flatly, and then sighed. "Fair enough," he conceded. "Merlin knows I've done my fair share of running away from you."

"You seem to have stopped for now," Harry ventured, and Draco shrugged but didn't say anything.

"Anyway, I went to Ellis to speak to him about what you said about the Aurors," Harry continued, and Draco looked up, panic written over his features. "It's okay, he's safe," Harry said, but Draco didn't look convinced. "He's good at his job so he's been working with the Aurors on Hightops – they can't afford not to use him, really."

"What did he say?" Draco asked tentatively.

"He thought the same as what you said, actually. The problem is the Head Auror is blocking all attempts for any internal investigations. Doesn't want the controversy."

"Fletcher," Draco said slowly, and Harry's heart leapt.

"You know the name?"

"Only from the _Prophet_," Draco said. "Sorry."

Harry nodded. "It's okay," he said, and then paused. He looked at Draco's waiting face and then decided to risk it. "Do you know any other names?"

"Yeah," he said with a bitter twist to his mouth.

There was a long pause. Draco was looking right at him, but not saying a word. Disconcerted, Harry shifted and then broke the silence.

"Care to share?"

"I just did," Draco said bitterly. "I just told you every name I know."

"You didn't say a word," Harry said, confused.

"Exactly," Draco said, and the knut dropped.

"You've been lip-locked," Harry said, his heart sinking. Lip-lock curses of that kind were incredibly hard to break, just as strong memory charms were. They could theoretically get the names out of Draco, but not without doing some serious damage to him in the process.

Draco was obviously thinking along the same lines. "You won't tell them, will you?" he asked, fear tinting his voice.

"I'll tell them but they wouldn't try to break it," he said, hoping he was right. "Torture isn't part of Ministry policy."

Draco laughed shakily. "You never know."

"I had something else to talk to you about," Harry continued. Draco eyed him warily, but nodded.

"Ellis told me…well, have you got any valuable information about your boss or the ring? Anything they might be scared you'd tell?"

Draco shook his head. "They didn't tell me anything. I only knew a few names, and they were probably false anyway. Makes lip-locking me a bit pointless."

"You don't have anything of theirs?" Harry pressed, and Draco shook his head.

"Well then, chances are they won't come after you," Harry said gently, and Draco's eyes went wide. "Crime rings work on tiers for a reason. So they can cut out any part that might compromise the integrity of the ring."

Draco was looking at him, shocked. "But," he struggled "But they threatened me – they said they'd crucio me if I even _thought_ about leaving."

"Well, you were valuable to them, right?" Harry said, wanting to do something to comfort Draco and make the fear go away, but resisting the urge to go over to him. "You were good at what you did. Of course they wanted you to stay. But now you've gone…"

He trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.

"What?" Draco asked urgently, leaning forwards. A pillow fell from the chair onto the floor but he ignored it.

"You're not worth anything to them anymore," Harry said quietly. "They know you're known by the Aurors. They'll know you've had contact with me. You can't say anything to anyone, so there's no point coming after you."

Draco was still staring at him, wide eyed and unsure. His eyes lowered and flickered left to right, as if he were thinking hard. He opened his mouth but didn't speak right away, his brow furrowing into a frown.

"It can't be that easy," he said agitatedly. "They – they'd just let me go?"

"They're after diamonds and valuable jewels," Harry said. "That's what they care about."

"So I'm practically worthless now?" Draco said, and his voice sounded hollow. "Fuck. Why am I even disappointed by that?" He sank back into the chair, running a hand over his face. Harry felt a pang go through him.

"No-one likes to think of themselves as worthless," he said quietly. "Even though you're not."

Draco didn't reply, although he did move his hand away from his face. He now looked as exhausted as Harry felt, his expression brooding and pensive. Harry didn't interrupt; despite wanting to he knew that he had to let Draco think about everything by himself.

"So I'm not in any danger?" Draco finally said. "Scorpius isn't in any danger?"

Harry shook his head. "We don't think so."

"How do you know they won't just kill me?" Draco said, and the words made Harry's heart ache.

"Because of me," he said with a small smile. "They know you're in contact with me. No smart criminal will chase after you, it'll be too risky."

"For the first time in my life I'm glad you're the Chosen One," Draco said shakily.

Harry snorted. "So you weren't glad when I offed Voldemort?"

Draco flinched. "Well, yes," he said. "But things didn't work out very well for me after that. At least this time round-"

He broke off, shutting his mouth. Harry desperately wanted to know what Draco perceived as different this time round, and couldn't help but wonder if it was him. _At least this time round me and you get along,_ he imagined Draco saying in his soft drawl._ At least this time round I have you._

"I – I need to think," Draco said, struggling for words. "I'm – I'll talk to your later-"

"Draco, wait," Harry said helplessly, but Draco was already leaving the room, fleeing without looking back. Harry heard a door shut just down the corridor and knew that Draco had hidden away in his room. It was understandable, but it wasn't what Harry had hoped for.

"Well, what were you hoping for?" he muttered under his breath, annoyed at himself. Did he expect Draco to fall into his arms in gratitude? Had he been expecting to get that kiss that had nearly happened the earlier that day?

Two steps forwards, one step back, he thought despondently, before pushing himself up off the sofa and going back to join the boys in the kitchen, determined to stop thinking about Draco, at least for a little while.

* * *

><p>The light outside started to face and the warmth of the day began to retreat by the time Draco gave any thought to what time it was. His stomach was rumbling but he barely noticed; he'd had far too much on his mind to even spare a thought towards food. He'd spent most of the day away in his room, trying to organise his thoughts in-between attempting to read some of the books from the bookcase. The only one he'd been able to settle on was something called The Green Mile, but he'd had to stop reading it about halfway through, feeling slightly frightened of how cruel one of the characters was and wishing it didn't remind him of the bully he used to be.<p>

So instead of reading, he'd gone back to sitting quietly and thinking. He'd ended up lying back on his bed, his wand clutched in both hands and held protectively to his chest. He wished that Scorpius were there with him to comfort him, but knew he was still occupied with the Potter spawn.

What a day.

It had been hard enough getting up at half eight in the sodding morning for a start. He'd not been up that early in ages – in fact the last time he'd seen half eight in the morning was when he was still up from the night before. And to hear not one but three whispering voices in his bedroom, trying to get his attention…it certainly looked like he were no longer off limits to the Potter children.

He thought he'd had enough when Luna had appeared through the fireplace, smiling at him and dismissing the war as easily as you could as house elf. She was still obviously bonkers, but she had a resoluteness and strength that Draco hadn't encountered in many people in his lifetime. He'd been all ready to flee to room as soon as he could after Harry had left but she'd somehow convinced him to stay put with only a few bright words and oddly understanding smiles. It had helped that Scorpius had looked thrilled at the mention of making cakes, and Draco couldn't bear to miss out on watching Scorpius do something he never had done before.

James seemed to have taken to him during the impromptu baking session as well, and Draco had found himself actually starting to really like the brat. He wasn't as whiny as Al and Scorpius could be, and he was sometimes shockingly funny with the way he said things. He would be a master of sarcasm by the time he went to Hogwarts, Draco could already tell.

It had almost been…nice, after that. The cakes had been edible – although Draco had hesitated to eat any after seeing how many times the kids had stuck their fingers in the mixture without washing them first – and the boys had had fun.

However, aside from all that, there was Potter - _Harry_ - to think about.

Starting with how the git had given Draco's wand back without so much as a warning. It had been startling for Draco to realise that Harry must actually trust him, because he didn't think for one moment that Harry would give his wand back if he thought Draco were going to cause trouble.

Even more shocking had been that botched almost-kiss moment in the hallway. Even though there clearly wasn't any room for doubt anymore, Draco still couldn't wrap his head around the fact there was actually something going on between them. A part of Draco felt giddy and disorientated and wanted to laugh and jump up and down about it. Another part didn't quite dare believe it, and fearfully pointed out that it was probably too good to be true. Harry Potter couldn't possibly like him like that. It was just too ridiculous to contemplate.

He pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing his forehead with one hand. This was all happening so fast he didn't even know what to think. Dealing with the thing between them would have been plausible if Harry hadn't then turned up later with another request to talk, before dropping another bombshell on Draco's already upturned world.

According to Harry, he was free.

His first reaction was to not believe it. It couldn't be that easy. They wouldn't just let him go, would they? Fuck, he still didn't know and he'd been thinking about it for hours, ever since he'd run away from Harry. He'd heard the others all moving around the house every now and again but couldn't bring himself to join them, it was just too much. He had known that his life would be changed dramatically the moment he clapped eyes on Potter in that damn police-station, but he didn't expect the vast majority of the changes to happen within the space of one bloody day.

A noise drew his attention and he turned his head quickly just in time to see the door to his room opening and Scorpius edging in. He was in a pair of pyjamas that Draco hadn't seen before and his hair was damp, which must have meant Harry had managed to get him through the bath before bedtime. The thought made Draco's insides clench, though whether in gratitude or possessiveness he wasn't quite sure. He might not hate Harry anymore, but Scorpius was still his. The idea of sharing him was...strange.

"Bonjour, mon petit ver," he smiled, slipping off the edge of the bed to kneel on the floor, allowing Scorpius to scamper over and climb onto his lap. He wrapped his arms round him and felt Scorpius's small arms snake around his neck, knees digging into Draco's thighs.

"You didn't come down for dinner," Scorpius whispered.

"Sorry," Draco murmured. "I was reading and forgot what time it was."

"What were you reading?"

"A story about wicked fairies that lived in a forest," Draco lied. "And then a little boy called Scorpius didn't bring them any cake so they ate him up." He dug his fingers under Scorpius's arms, tickling him in time with his last words, making Scorpius laugh and try to twist away from Draco's scrabbling fingers.

"Arrête, Papa," he protested through his laughter. "I saved you two cakes."

Draco stopped tickling him and ran his hands over Scorpius's head, pushing his damp hair back. He needed a haircut, Draco noted absently. They both probably did, come to think of it.

"Come and tuck us in," Scorpius said, reaching out with both hands to touch Draco's earrings, fiddling gently with them.

"Alright then," Draco said with a smile. "Get off then, you lump."

"I am not a lump," Scorpius laughed, letting go of Draco's ears to push at his chest. "You're a lump."

"If you say so," Draco laughed as Scorpius slid off his knees and walked towards the door. It wasn't until they were across the landing and into the boys' room that Draco registered Scorpius's use of the word _us._

"Draco!" Al said happily from where he was standing on his bed. "It's bedtime."

Draco blinked down at Scorpius and then up at Al. "So why aren't you in your bed?" he asked and Al grinned at him. "Has P- Harry not been to tuck you in?"

Al nodded and flopped down onto his knees, rolling onto his back. "We were waiting for you. Scorpius said you'd come in so there wasn't any point going to sleep yet."

Draco felt his throat tighten at the simple words, something disconcerting swelling in his chest. "Alright," he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. "Get in. I'll time you and see how fast you can do it."

Luckily the words had the same effect on Al as they usually did on Scorpius. Both of them scrambled to get under their blankets with little or no finesse, knocking pillows and stuffed toys askew in their haste.

"Who's this?" Draco asked as he stooped over Scorpius's bed, leaning down to pick up the toy dragon that had tumbled out of the covers. Scorpius reached for it eagerly, trying to tug his blankets up.

"Dragon. Harry gave him to me to look after," he said. "Just until Panda comes back. Harry says he will look after me too because he's got nearly a same name as you."

Draco nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He pulled the blankets up over Scorpius's shoulder and leant down to kiss him on his temple. "Go to sleep," he whispered. "Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime, Papa," Scorpius whispered back and then appeared to settle down. Draco had been expecting more of a fuss to be honest; the pair hadn't seemed at all sleepy when Draco had come in, though the energy could probably be attributed to a day eating cake mix and sprinkles.

He straightened up and then paused, unsure. Al was under his covers just as Draco had asked, and was looking at him with eyes that were an oh-so familiar shade of green. Sighing internally, Draco walked over, taking care to duck under the dragon mobile before kneeling down next to the bed.

"You live here now, don't you," Al said matter-of-factly. Draco sensed it wasn't a question.

Draco nodded, not wanting to lie about something important. "Did your dad tell you that?"

Al nodded back and then yawned widely. "He told me and J-J-James at lunchtime."

Draco couldn't help but smile faintly. At least Harry was being honest with the boys, he supposed. "I hope that's okay with you."

Al nodded. "I like sharing my room," he said. "Besides, James said it's just like when Neville moved in to Mum's house and that was alright."

Draco felt his eyes go wide at the innocent implication and wondered if James had meant anything by it. He didn't even know if the boys knew about Harry's sexuality – hang on, he didn't even know if Scorpius even really knew about _him_. Shit. If Scorpius and Al were getting to the age where they would start picking up on things, then James was certainly already there. Bugger, he was going to have to think about this carefully.

"Go to sleep," he said softly, and before he could think about it he reached up to pull Al's blanket up over his shoulder. "See you in the morning."

Al yawned again. "Night," he said, tucking his stuffed kneazle under his arm. Draco quickly got to his feet, looking back to check that Scorpius was settled. He made to go towards the doorway and then froze in place as he saw a familiar figure hovering just outside, watching through the gap between the door and frame.

Harry took a hasty step back just so he was almost out of sight, but quite clearly still waiting on the landing. Draco swore silently, heart seeming to quicken as he thought about Harry overhearing what Al had just said. And that was on top of the fact they were now dancing around that stupid-almost kiss moment from this morning, Draco mentally despaired.

He made his feet move and left the room, now feeling oddly nervous. He shut the door behind him, not wanting the boys to hear their conversation. "He asked me to tuck him in," he said before Harry could get a word out, wincing internally at how defensive he sounded. "I wasn't trying to interfere-"

"It's fine," Harry said, shoving his hands into his pockets and shifting on his feet. "I kinda like that they like you. And that you like them."

"They're not so bad," Draco said quietly. "James makes me laugh."

"James makes me want to laugh and hit my head against a wall," Harry sighed. "I take it you know I told the boys you were staying?"

"You know I know, you were eavesdropping," Draco said pointedly.

Harry shrugged, reaching up to scratch the back of his head in a gesture that Draco recognised as a slightly awkward one. "Sorry," he said insincerely. "I just wanted to give you a heads-up about what I'd said to the boys-"

"You do realise that James is comparing it to Longbottom moving in with Ginny?" Draco interrupted, and Harry did flush at that.

"Well, it's not quite the same," he said impatiently. "He knows that."

"Really? What would he be thinking if he'd caught us kissing in the hallway then?"

Draco regretted the outburst the moment he'd said it. A distressed look flittered over Harry's face before he looked down at the floor.

"I know," he said, reaching up to rub at his eyebrow. "I didn't think. I just-"

He broke off and silence feel between them. Draco felt so exhausted and tightly wrung that he didn't know what to do with himself. There just seemed to be more and more issues piling up on top of him and he'd not even managed to come to terms with the last lot of revelations.

"I need to-" he said, shaking his head and stepping past Harry and intending to go back into his room. He made it halfway past before a hand caught his wrist, stopping him in place.

A frisson of panic ran through his veins. "Get off," he said automatically, trying to pull away, the panic turning to fear when he found that he couldn't. His throat went dry and his lungs seemed too small and tight to draw in a breath-

"Wait," Harry said, his tone almost pleading. "I just – did you think about what I told you earlier?"

"Potter, get off," Draco repeated, his voice high and tense. He must have sounded suitably distressed because Harry let him go, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. Draco took an automatic step back and crossed his arms across his chest, fighting the urge to go for his wand.

"Sorry," Harry said helplessly. "I forgot."

"It's not been that long," Draco said tightly.

"But it's different now," Harry said, the words hanging in the air between them, heavy with implication. Draco didn't know what to say to that. It _was_ different, it was all so different and he just didn't know what to do, he couldn't handle this, _it was just too much_-

Trembling, he turned away and went back into his room, shutting the door behind him without looking back at Harry who was still standing there on the landing, looking lost. Trying to push away the something that felt oddly like regret, Draco leant back against the door, breathing out deeply and trying to keep calm. It wasn't easy; he was still shaking and feeling slight sick deep in the pit of his stomach, trying to keep back all the memories that were threatening to surface because of the way Harry had touched him.

Shit. He _hated_ the way that he'd instantly panicked when Harry had touched him. God, that stupid job had ruined _everything_, taken away his own sense of control over his reactions. He thought he was getting better with it but the touch had been unexpected and startled him into an automatic defensive reaction.

He wished he could just let Harry touch him. He was so stupidly grateful that Harry didn't mind touching him, but he still couldn't fully enjoy or appreciate it. It was so frustrating that it made tears prick his eyes; even if he were technically free from the employment of the gang, there were still so many ways in which he felt he were still a prisoner. He was pathetic, helpless, completely lost.

Without thinking about it, he blindly pushed away from the door and walked over to the small chest of drawers that stood against the wall next to the bathroom door. He pulled open the top drawer, pushing past the few items of clothing he'd accrued in order to get at what was hidden beneath. Shaking, he curled his fingers around the bottle of Jack Daniels that he'd stolen from the pantry a while back, lifting it out of the drawer.

It was still well over half full, but he barely took time to notice before twisting the cap off and taking a swig, feeling desperate and not fully in control of himself. He screwed his eyes shut as he swallowed, the taste and smell harsh and almost overpowering. Cringing and shuddering, he leant forwards with his elbows on the dresser, swallowing convulsively to push down the taste of the whiskey. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, he knew he should have returned the bottle after his last drinking binge, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. Like a coward, he'd hidden it in a drawer, knowing he wouldn't be strong enough to do without in the future.

Still trembling slightly, he stepped backwards until the back of his knees bumped against the edge of the mattress. He sat down heavily, bottle in one hand and lid in the other.

From one tangled web into another, he though humourlessly before taking another mouthful from the bottle. He swallowed, shutting his eyes as he breathed heavily in and out of his mouth, willing it to settle. Despite the overpowering taste and smell he could only think that at least he wasn't trying to drink Firewhiskey neat. A little queasiness was better than a burnt tongue.

After another couple of mouthfuls he felt the warmth of alcohol spreading through him, from his stomach through his limbs, the sensation familiar and calming. Gripping the bottle tightly, he rested his elbows on his knees and let his head fall forwards as he tried to sort of the jumble of thoughts in his head.

If he were free from the gang, then that meant he could start rebuilding his life. He could send Scorpius to school. He could think about getting some actual qualifications. He could think about getting a real job. But first, before all that, he could simply start living without fear. He could be his own man, and do what he wanted to do, not what he was _told_ to do.

But god, what did he actually want? He hadn't anticipated this _thing_ happening between him and Harry, despite wishing for it for half his life. Would something between them actually work? He just didn't know.

He opened his eyes slowly and started down at the black and white label of the bottle in his hand. Harry would be furious with him for drinking again, he thought absentmindedly, running his finger over the number seven on the label. He wouldn't want Draco to be drunk and upset and unmanageable, he'd want Draco to be sober and calm and decent-

Because he liked Draco when he was calm and sober and decent, Draco realised with a jolt. Harry didn't like Draco being drunk because he didn't _like_ Draco when he was being a drunken mess.

Suddenly it all seemed so simple.

Hardly aware of what he was doing, Draco screwed the lid back onto the bottle and set it down on the floor, before climbing to his feet and heading to the door. Why was he wasting time panicking over everything, when he could just be accepting it and thanking his lucky stars that things were working out for the better? He honestly didn't know, and he just hoped that it wasn't too late. With each step he thought back things that gave him strength to actually do what he wanted; the way Harry had smiled lopsidedly at him earlier, choosing not to judge Draco on his past and the mistakes of his family. The way Harry had pulled a blanket over him as he'd passed out on the sofa in the living room. The way Harry always left him something to eat even when Draco didn't join them for meals. The way Harry had gotten so close earlier, eyes wide and oh-so green behind his glasses, looking as if he hardly dared to believe that Draco was _right there_, close enough to kiss...

He stepped out of his bedroom, feeling oddly vulnerable as he pulled the door shut behind him. Time to find something other than booze to make himself feel better, he thought shakily, already knowing exactly what the something – or someone - would be.

* * *

><p>Harry stared blankly at the pages in front of him, not able to comprehend any of the words. He was honestly trying, but his mind was to full to be able to switch off. It had used to drive Ginny mad, the way he wouldn't be able to focus on anything if his mind where elsewhere, and it seemed he still hadn't quite grown out of it.<p>

He wasn't entirely sure why he'd chosen to retreat to his bedroom instead of staying in the living room as he usually did in the evening. He just felt a bit like hiding away from everything after the turmoil of the day, wanting some peace and time to himself. Besides, he knew that if he sat downstairs he'd just waste a couple of hours pointlessly flicking through television channels before giving up and going to bed anyway.

He couldn't help but wish that he hadn't told Draco about what Ellis had said, at least not straight away. It had been bad enough surprising him with Luna and then almost kissing him, without adding that to the mix almost immediately after. And that was even before the added complication of considering what they should be telling the kids about the situation. He'd thought it had been enough to explain that Draco and Scorpius had moved in, but after hearing what James had said about it being the same as Ginny and Neville moving in together…he was going to have to have a conversation with the boys in the near future, one he'd been avoiding for quite some time.

The mere thought of it made him worry, although at the moment, it did seem a little redundant to try and explain to the boys about the nature of the relationship between him and Draco when he didn't even know what it was anyway.

He knew what he wanted it to be, he thought with a sigh, letting go of his book and rubbing his eyes, slumping back into the pillows he'd pulled up behind his back. God, his friends were never going to let him live it down if he ever actually admitted it. Ellis and Ron would be unbearable, and Ginny and Hermione would look at him with that _look_ they used when they knew they'd been right all along.

Shaking himself mentally, he returned to the book, or tried to anyway. He wasn't really convinced by the plot but Hermione had recommended it so he was valiantly trying to give it a second chance. He'd barely skimmed over the words at the top of the page when a knock at his bedroom door made him jump. Lowering his book, he frowned, pulse quickening inside his chest. James or Al wouldn't knock, they'd just come in. Which could only mean that a certain someone else was inexplicably standing at the top of the stairs just outside his bedroom door.

"Yeah?" he called, sitting back up and all at once very aware that he wasn't wearing a shirt. There was a pause and then the door pushed open, revealing a very nervous looking Draco. Harry's pulse seemed to skip and he fought down the butterflies in his stomach, trying not to wonder why Draco was there, in his _bedroom_ of all places. He swallowed, realising he'd been silent for too long to be considered comfortable.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked as Draco stood in the doorway, one hand curled around the edge of the door. His wand was held loosely in the fingers of his other hand, down at his side.

Draco nodded. "Am I allowed in here?" he asked uncertainly.

"Sure." Harry folded down the corner of his book and then sat up, crossing his legs under his duvet, feeling awkward reclining back on his pillows. He didn't want to give out any inappropriate signals to Draco, not after the wrist-grabbing incident that hadn't gone down too well earlier. He still felt like kicking himself for that; how much more stupid could he really have been?

Draco swallowed visibly. "I was thinking," he said, and looked down at the floor. Harry waited it out, and when Draco spoke again his voice was small.

"Do you really think I'm free?"

A pang went through Harry's heart at the subdued tones and the tentative, frightened hope in Draco's question. He nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Considering what Ellis said, I'd say so."

Draco nodded. "I'd like that," he said just as quietly.

Harry blinked. "Me too."

Draco laughed shortly and then looked up, hesitant. "Can I come in?"

Harry felt a prickle go down his spine and nodded wordlessly, not quite trusting his voice to stay steady. He watched as Draco came in and shut the door carefully behind him, before walking over to perch on the edge of Harry's bed, next to one of his knees. The butterflies came back with a vengeance; Harry was never going to be able to think about his bed in the same way again, and Draco was only _sitting_ on it.

"I think," Draco said, so quietly that Harry nearly missed it. "We need to work out what we're doing. If I have another day of _thinking_ I'm going to go barmy."

"Well, what are you thinking?" Harry asked. He fought the urge to reach out and touch Draco, his proximity doing funny things to Harry's brain. This was so hard; he was used to just doing things, so holding himself back and not acting was difficult. It reminded him of the time he'd spent working so hard to hold himself back and not act on those funny feelings that that damn bet with Ron had uncovered. It was slightly funny in a very twisted way that it was Draco Malfoy once again making things difficult for Harry, though he had to concede that he'd never seen _this_ coming.

"If I'm free, then that's no longer a problem," Draco said, and Harry watched his eyes flickering back and forth and he thought, a small cleft appearing between his eyebrows. "So I can stop thinking about that. It's in the past, like the war."

Harry had been listening intently, but at the mention of the war he blinked in surprise. Draco would never voluntarily bring up the war, he was sure of it. He looked at Draco carefully, watching him agitatedly twist his wand between his fingers and fighting the urge to cover them with his own.

"Can you really let go of it all? Move on?" Harry asked quietly, still a little cautious about Draco's sudden loquaciousness.

Draco shrugged. "I'd like to try," he said, turning wide, grey eyes on Harry. Harry's breath caught in his chest, unable to look away. The same tension from earlier returned with almost breath-taking force, and this time there were no kids to interrupt, nothing to stop them if they didn't want to-

"Harry," Draco said helplessly, and Harry shivered at the sound of his name. "What are we even doing?"

"Dancing around each other and making our lives ridiculously complicated because neither of us is in a place to make a move?" Harry offered shakily, and Draco laughed, reaching up to rub his eyes with his knuckles. The sound was oddly thick and made Harry pause once again, watching Draco thoughtfully.

"We can't, can we?" Draco said quietly. "Because of the kids."

Harry bit his lip. "We can't if all it's going to be is some five-minute, throwaway thing," he said. "There's too much at risk. We do it properly, or we don't do it at all."

Draco looked up at him, helpless and scared all over again. "Properly?"

Harry swallowed thickly. "When we're sure it won't leave us in a bad place if it goes wrong. That's not fair on the kids, or on you."

"Harry," Draco said again, and looked away. "It's ridiculous, I've thought about you for so long but I can't just…"

He trailed off and Harry felt his heart soar and then sink. To hear Draco say something like that was overwhelming in more ways than one. To hear an admission that Draco had thought about him in the past was incredible…but Harry knew there was only one circumstance under which Draco would dare say it out loud.

"Draco," he said softly, and as Draco tilted his head to look at him, Harry reached out to cup his cheek with his palm. Draco drew in a sharp breath but didn't pull away. "How much have you had to drink?"

Draco lowered his eyes, looking ashamed. "Enough so that I'm telling you I like you, but not so much that I'd fall down the stairs again."

Harry felt disappointment roll through him, both at the fact Draco had been drinking and that it meant that he couldn't make a move or take it any further. He could have sworn; he _knew_ that something hadn't been right and now kissing and serious conversation had both been taken out of the equation in one fell swoop. Urgh, _fuck_ his stupid moral centre that was telling him to back off whilst Draco was drunk. Bollocks to being a Gryffindor - opting for the honourable route was going to be the death of him, _again._

"I'm not even going to consider anything whilst you're drunk," Harry said flatly, moving his thumb gently across Draco's cheekbone to take the bite out of his words.

"Why not?" Draco asked shakily. "I'm probably nicer when I've had a drink."

Some remote part of Harry was asking the exact same question, however the stronger part of him was grudgingly conceding that this was the right thing to do. Even as he mentally conceded the point, he realised that this was the only sensible option considering how Draco had reacted last time Harry had gone anywhere near him whilst he was pissed. He'd been _furious, _and they'd only been talking, never mind kissing whilst in Harry's bloody bed.

"Yeah, but I don't want you to hate me for it in the morning," Harry said pointedly, though only feeling a _little_ better about his decision to back off. "Or blaming anything on the fact you were pissed. I've been there, done that."

Draco sighed tiredly and nodded, his eyes drifting shut. "Can we still go and get my stuff?" he asked.

Harry didn't stop gently stroking Draco's cheek with his thumb. "Yeah. At some point."

Draco nodded again, not opening his eyes. God, all morals aside, Harry just wanted to lean in and kiss him until they were both breathless. He just _couldn't_, he didn't dare, not whilst Draco had been drinking. His vulnerable, lonely side was now chipping in with the thought that Draco might not even mean all these things he was saying; he could just be drunk and confused about it all.

"Go to bed," Harry said, though even suggesting that Draco leave made his chest ache. "Go to sleep, and we'll talk in the morning, if you want."

"I want to talk now," Draco said, somewhere between sincere, insistent and petulant.

"No," Harry said firmly. "Not if you're drunk. That's not fair on either of us. Go sleep it off, and we'll give it a go in the morning."

"Will I be allowed wine with my breakfast?" Draco asked, opening his eyes. Harry gave him an exasperated look, taking his hand away from Draco's face. "Joking," Draco added, though Harry wasn't sure if he was or not.

"Go to bed," Harry repeated, and Draco nodded.

"Night," he said tiredly, and stood up with only a tiny amount of swaying.

"Night."

Harry watched him go, and the moment the door was closed he flopped back onto his pillows with a groan. Over a year without getting any and he was sending Draco away because he'd had a drink? He didn't know if he deserved an Order of Merlin or a slap.

Well, he thought to himself as he picked up his book again with no intention of actually reading it. Draco making the move to come to talk to him whilst only slightly pissed was a definite step in the right direction. Now maybe they could attempt a conversation whilst sober, which would definitely be progress.

Harry didn't look at his book again that night, but it still took him hours to fall asleep. It wasn't hard to work out why.


	17. Chapter 17

_**AN**: A note to those joining us late - yes, Thursdays are still designated day for updates. And a disclamier of sorts - Google translate is not the genuis behind the French in this story. Whn I mentioned that I had done my initial translations using Google, some wonderful users who are native speakers offered to translate for me. So thanks go to navetconfit and Isaah, and definitely not Google!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17<strong>

Draco lay back in his bed, awake but not quite ready to move. The morning was warm already, and sunlight was pouring in around the edges of the curtains. It still felt oddly lonely to be in a room by himself without Scorpius, but at the same time he was grateful for the chance to be alone and think. It was never something he'd wanted to do before, but now it seemed his life was starting to regain some sort of order, he found he wasn't so averse to the notion of some introspection.

He felt fine this morning; no obvious hangover besides a slight headache that a cup of tea would fix in no time. The only issue was the sheer embarrassment he felt when he recalled going into Harry's bedroom the previous night. Into_ his bedroom_. What had he been thinking?

Although, if he looked underneath the embarrassment he could tell that he already felt a lot calmer and more at peace than he had done yesterday. The idea of being free from the clutches of the gang was now a welcome thought rather than a scary one, and Draco found himself feeling something close to hopeful for the first time in a long time.

Lying there, he could hear muted footsteps and voices coming from downstairs. Draco noted that they seemed louder than they usually did, but didn't spent too much time worrying about it. Children were annoyingly loud beings by default; he was just glad that they weren't in the same room as him considering that his head felt a little tender.

He reached under his pillow for his wand, taking comfort in the familiar shape as he twirled it slowly between his fingers. He was immeasurably grateful to have it back, and couldn't help feel thankful that Potter had given it back before Draco had started to consider demanding it be returned.

His thoughts drifted back to last night. He couldn't help but recall the feeling of having Harry's hand on his cheek, oddly comforting even though Draco should have freaked out and pushed him away. It had been nice to be touched without automatically turning panicked, although Draco couldn't help but wish he was still selfish enough to just take what he wanted. It hurt to know that he wasn't even strong enough to do something as simple as kiss someone he'd wanted to for years.

At least Harry was still ridiculously noble, Draco thought with a sigh, running his fingers over his wand. Maybe he would wait for Draco to get over his stupid fear of intimacy – Draco would happily sell an arm to be able to kiss Potter without panic, so the least Potter could do was wait, if it was even what he really wanted.

Draco sighed again, feeling butterflies in stomach that definitely weren't hangover related as he once again recalled what he'd done the night before. Like a complete idiot he'd asked Harry about them – if there even was a _them_ – and now they were going to have to talk about it this morning, whilst Draco was sober.

He about jumped a mile as he heard a knock on his bedroom door, golden sparks shooting from his wand which was still in his hand. Heart thudding, he sat up and hastily patted out the sparks as they landed on the bedding, distractedly listening to the sound of muffled voices just outside.

"Wait," he thought he heard Harry say, and then before he could answer the door opened and Harry darted in, shutting the door quickly behind him. He had a mug of tea in one hand and a harassed look on his face.

"Come in?" Draco said pointedly, and Harry grimaced as he turned to face him.

"Sorry," he said. "Here. I brought you tea."

"Thanks," Draco said, surprised. He cleared his throat as Harry walked over to pass him the mug, feeling a flush rise in his cheeks. "I don't often get brought things in bed."

"I figured," Harry said with a faint smile, and then sat down on the edge of Draco's bed. "Look, I thought I better come in and tell you-"

He didn't finish his sentence before the door opened again and a figure burst in; too tall to be one of the boys but clearly not an adult by any stretch of the imagination. He bounded over to where Harry was sat, leaning on the edge of Draco's bed and looking at him excitedly. Draco gaped at him, taking in his round face, bright eyes and shockingly blue hair in quick succession.

"You're Draco, aren't you?" the boy asked.

"Teddy, I said to wait," Harry interjected, sounding exasperated.

"I did wait," Teddy said. "I counted to ten and then came in." He shot a winning smile at Harry who looked torn between being cross and laughing, and then turned his attention back to Draco.

"You are, aren't you? You're my cousin, Harry said so. Well, my mum was your cousin so we're second cousins or something like that, I don't think it's that thing where you get removed but I don't really get that anyway. I come here all the time and Grandma said I could stay only as long as Harry introduced us properly," he carried on, without seeming to take a breath. "It's well cool, I never had cousins before, not real ones where you're actually really related properly. Are you going to get up? It's nearly ten o' clock already."

Draco gaped at the small blue-haired child, completely at a loss. _Teddy Lupin_, his brain informed him faintly, but he still didn't manage to articulate any words.

"Harry said we'd go to the park if you got up," Teddy continued happily, completely unperturbed by the fact Draco hadn't even said hello yet. "See, you have to come because you can only take two children at a time side-along, even though Uncle George took three of us once and didn't even splinch us a little bit." He paused for a breath and looked from Harry to Draco curiously, as if only just noticing they were there. "Are you Harry's boyfriend? James says you live here-"

"Teddy!" Harry interrupted instantly, sounding mortified. "Out!"

"I'm only asking," Teddy said insistently.

"Ask later. _Out_."

Teddy pouted but obliged. He stood up and then grinned, and before Draco could blink his hair changed from bright blue to white-blond.

"Ta-daa," Teddy crowed proudly. "Now everyone'll know we're related."

He left the room, not bothering to shut the door and clattering down the stairs, shouting as he went. That explained the extra volume he'd heard this morning then, Draco thought faintly. Neither he nor Harry said a word for a long while, studiously avoiding each other's gaze.

"Are you ever going to get bored of dropping surprises on me?" Draco asked finally, looking down at his mug of tea.

"I told him to wait," Harry said ruefully, pulling his wand out of his pocket and waving it to shut the door. "I don't know where he gets all his energy from."

"Is he really…?" Draco asked hesitantly.

"His Mum was your cousin," Harry answered. "Tonks - Andromeda's daughter. He was born just before the final battle."

"Oh," Draco said quietly, a little overwhelmed by coming face-to-face with a relative he'd all but forgotten he had. "So how old is he? And please tell me I didn't imagine his hair changing colour."

"He's ten, off to Hogwarts in September," Harry said with a rueful smile. "And no, you didn't. He's a metamorphmagus – well, so far the only thing he can change is his hair but I daresay he'll learn more as he goes.

Draco nodded, feeling lost. "Christ," he said, rubbing his face, and then something horrible occurred to him and he froze.

"He's not-" he blurted and Harry looked at him quizzically. "His father was…"

Comprehension dawned over Harry's face, followed by a hard look that made Draco uncomfortable. "No," he said shortly. "We thought for a while…but no."

"Thank fuck," Draco breathed and Harry's face softened.

"Didn't think you'd care," he said casually.

Draco sighed, looking down at his knees. He wondered if he should be offended by the fact Harry thought he was that callous, as of the only child in the world he cared about was Scorpius. He decided against it, mostly because a week ago he would have been adamant that he _didn't_ care about anyone but Scorpius. "I may be horrible but I'm not that horrible."

Harry smiled quietly. "You're not really all that horrible anymore. Awkward, but not horrible."

Draco didn't know what to say to that so he took a sip of his tea. It was milky and sweet and just how he liked it. Harry didn't seem to mind his silence; he just sat there with a thoughtful gaze trained absently on the bathroom door.

"Are you going out?" Draco asked after a while, cradling his cup in his hands.

Harry blinked, confused. "What?"

"Teddy said something about the park," Draco ventured.

Harry looked down, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "Ah. That," he said awkwardly. "Well Teddy mentioned it the minute he fell out of the fireplace, and now the boys all want to go, but I can only take two kids side-along at a time."

Draco stared at him, tea forgotten. "You want me to come," he said flatly.

"Only if you're up to it," Harry said. "It's a Muggle park, about a ten minute walk from an apparition point. Very few wizards go there so we wouldn't be recognised. It's just space to run around, and there's a pond with ducks that James likes to feed, and a couple of trees to climb. Just a couple of hours in the sun, it's not fair to keep them all cooped up on days like this. But if you don't want to, I'll take James and Teddy and get Luna to come sit with you, Al and Scorpius, then maybe swap over later."

He trailed off and Draco swallowed thickly, looking away. His first instinct was to say no, that he didn't want to risk going outside. Christ, the last time he had he'd been snatched away and then ended up in hospital, and it was only luck that had kept him and Scorpius safe and together.

However, he wasn't in that situation anymore. If Harry was to be believed, he was free from the gang without fear of ramifications. The hope he'd felt upon waking up this morning was still there in his chest, and he suddenly realised that he _wanted_ to go. The simplest argument was that he wanted some fresh air and a change of scene; Harry's house was a decent place to live but it'd be nice to get out for a while. Perhaps the strongest argument in favour was that Draco could clearly imagine Scorpius playing with Al in the sunshine, and Teddy and James running around and climbing trees, all of them laughing together.

He never thought he'd get to see Scorpius like that.

"I'll go if you take me to get my stuff," he found himself saying, and looked up to meet earnest green eyes that made his stomach do an odd sort of flip-flop.

Harry nodded, looking relieved. "Slytherin," he said with the ghost of a smile. "Okay. I can't promise we'll go today because I've got to get Luna to watch the boys, but we will go at some point soon."

Draco still felt nerves twisting through his stomach but he pushed them away. "Okay," he agreed, reaching up to pull gently at one of his earrings, a gesture he barely even noticed he was doing anymore. "Deal."

Harry eyes followed Draco's fingers, and then quickly darted away. "Alright. See you in a bit," he said, and quickly walked away, nearly catching his shoulder on the doorframe on the way out. Draco watched him go and waited until the door was shut before he let himself breathe.

His heart was going at double-time within his ribcage, he was sure of it. Unless he were very much mistaken, his ridiculous stunt last night had actually had good ramifications, rather than annoying Potter and making a mess of the whole situation again. Still, Draco could hardly dare believe it – to actually get what he'd always wanted from Potter was almost too much to even contemplate. In fact, he was probably getting more from Potter than he'd ever imagined – back in school Draco's thoughts towards Potter had been mostly sexual, with a few grudging comments on his bravery and loyalty to his friends. Now Draco was getting involved with someone who had saved his life – twice – and seemed quite willing to adopt Draco into his family for something much more than a quick shag. Something real.

Frankly, the thought was a little terrifying. Draco was an expert in not living up to people's expectations, and that weighed heavily in his mind against his basic urge to just grab hold of Potter and never let go. What if after a few weeks, Potter realised Draco wasn't actually what he wanted?

You'll never know if you don't find out, a voice in his head said that sounded suspiciously like his mother, and Draco laughed weakly. Of course she would have told him to go for it. She'd always been annoyingly fond of Potter after he'd saved Draco's life; open about it in a way Draco just couldn't manage.

Going outdoors first, sorting out relationship with Harry later, he thought suddenly. Brooding wouldn't help fix it, and he'd done enough of that yesterday. He climbed out of bed with determination, pushing away any lingering doubts about Harry or the trip to the park. He wasn't in any danger anymore, and it would be great to get out and just have some fun with Scorpius and the others. And besides, he wasn't going to let Scorpius go anywhere new without him, which meant if Scorpius wanted to go, Draco had to go.

It took him a while to realise that the nerves he still felt were actually not because he was worried about being found by the gang, but rather because he and Harry would be spending time together. Draco had come to terms with the fact he liked Potter, but to be with him when they both knew they liked each other in a way that couldn't be considered platonic…Draco shivered and turned towards the bathroom, wondering if this would have been what it felt like to be on a first date at sixteen.

He supposed he'd never know, he thought as he flicked his wand to make sure the towels were nice and dry before turning on the shower. Although, in the grand scheme of things, waiting until he was twenty-seven to find out wasn't turning out to be all that bad at all.

* * *

><p>"Teddy - rules for going out in public where there might be Muggles?" Harry asked as he wrestled Al's trainers onto his feet, Al giggling madly all the while. He was lying on his back with his feet on Harry's chest and making no effort to help whatsoever.<p>

"Pick a colour and stick with it," Teddy said promptly, shoving his feet into his shoes without bothering to undo the laces.

"Atta boy," Harry said, and then sighed down at Al. "You're not really helping."

"I am," Al nodded enthusiastically and lifted his feet away from Harry's chest enough so that Harry could get his shoes on. Harry rolled his eyes but carried on, wondering how on earth he'd ended up with four children to look after when he was technically a single, gay man. Funny how things turned out sometimes.

"James, did I sun-charm you?" he called over his shoulder, and felt a warm weight drape across his back a moment later, arms dangling over his shoulders.

"Yeah," James said. "Can we go now?"

"Go and see if Draco's ready," Harry said. "I can't side-along everyone so we've all got to go together."

"I'm going with Scorpius," Al shouted loudly, hurriedly rolling over and standing up. "James, I already said, I'm going with Scorpius."

James pulled a face at him. "Alright, keep your knickers on."

"James," Harry said sharply, and James looked suitably abashed. "Sorry," he muttered, and then left the room, presumably to go find Draco as he'd been asked to do. Harry breathed out deeply, wondering again if he were completely bonkers for doing this. At least now his life was overwhelmed by family and slightly obnoxious children rather than dark magic and war. It seemed a fair trade all in all.

"Ready to go?"

A nervous sounding voice from the doorway made him look up, hastily clambering to his feet. Draco was wearing his black jeans and a pale blue polo-shirt that had been pinched from Harry's wardrobe, and he looked so good that Harry forgot how to speak for a moment.

"Erm, yes, if you are?" he said, feeling slightly flustered. "I sun-charmed Scorpius so he wouldn't get burnt."

Draco laughed, rubbing his brow. "So did I," he said with a small rueful smile. "He'll be double-protected."

"And with no hope of a sun-tan," Harry added with a laugh of his own.

Draco snorted. "No hope anyway. We only go pink and then back to pale."

"Unlucky," Harry said, and Draco shrugged.

"It doesn't keep me up at night, if I'm honest," he said wryly. "I've got other things to be thinking about other than getting a tan."

Harry managed to keep his mouth shut and not make a stupid comment about how he hoped Draco was thinking about _him_ instead. He just smiled and then turned to the boys, who were all chattering loudly and excitedly about what they were going to do at the park. Teddy was insisting that they should climb trees first and James was arguing that he wanted to check if the ducks were still there. Al seemed to be happy to play goblins and dragons, and Scorpius was listening happily to all the suggestions, eyes wide and bright.

"Now or never," Draco said under his breath, so quietly that Harry wasn't sure he was supposed to hear it. He seemed to collect himself for a moment before holding out his hand out to Al and Scorpius.

"Pick me up," Scorpius said, but Draco shook his head.

"Can't pick you both up. Hold on tight, and hold onto Al as well."

The boys obliged, slinging arms over each other's shoulders and both reaching out to hold onto Draco's fingers. Harry watched and then turned his attention to James and Teddy, holding his own hand out. James took Harry's hand without question but Teddy appeared to be too big for hand holding; he stepped up close and wrapped an arm around Harry's chest, leaning on his side.

"You better not wiggle about," Harry warned, pulling James closer as he looked down at Teddy. "Grandma will be cross if I splinch you."

Teddy grinned up at him. "She'd be furious," he said happily, and Harry shook his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Right. I'll count to three before we go - Al, don't hold your breath yet, hang on. Scorpius?"

"Ready," Scorpius said, sounding excited.

"What about you?" Harry asked Draco, eyebrow raised. "Ready to go?"

Draco exhaled heavily and then nodded. "I trust you know where you're going?"

"Course," Harry nodded. "Do you want the co-ordinates?"

Draco met his eyes and then slowly shook his head, and Harry was about to ask him how he was planning on finding his way without them when he felt fingers brush his own. He drew in a breath as Draco threaded their fingers together, holding his hand tightly and only trembling a little.

"I'm rubbish with co-ordinates," he said, trying to be casual but the waver in his voice giving him away. "I'd get lost."

"Oh," Harry said, and then cleared his throat. "Okay, yeah."

He didn't know if Draco were fibbing or not; all he cared about was the fact Draco was voluntarily holding his hand, whilst completely sober. He could have just as easily held Harry's shoulder or wrist, but no, he was holding Harry's hand, and in full view of the kids as well.

Heart skipping against his sternum, Harry focussed his thoughts on the task of apparating and hoped that he wouldn't be so distracted by the feel of Draco's hand in his that he'd end up splinching someone. He took a deep breath, tightened his grip on James's hand and then started counting, hearing the collective take-in of breath from the kids on 'three', just before he stepped forwards and pulled them all with him, disappearing with a _crack_.

They all stumbled slightly as they landed in the old wooden bus shelter that served as an apparition point. Harry instinctively tightened his grip on the hands in his and quickly looked around to check there were still four children with all their fingers and toes still attached to their bodies. There wasn't any screaming or crying so he assumed they were fine.

James tugged his hand free of Harry's and the movement made Harry belatedly realise he was still holding Draco's hand. Feeling himself flush, he cleared his throat and flexed his fingers in a subtle hint. Draco quickly let go, a tell-tale blush colouring his own cheeks.

"Teddy, you know the way, right?" Harry asked, still feeling a little disorientated. "And are you staying blond?"

"Yes and yes," Teddy replied promptly, peering out of the bus shelter before setting off down the path, James just behind him. Harry quickly looked at Draco who was looking around with an expression of mild distaste. Harry didn't blame him, really; the bus shelter was old and dilapidated with nothing but a dirt floor under their feet, and was somehow cold inside even with the glorious weather outside.

"Teddy, wait up," Harry called, quickly heading outside before James and Teddy got too much of a head start on them. He ushered Al and Scorpius out before him and saw that Teddy and James were indeed waiting, although not very patiently if the looks on their faces were anything to go by.

"Potter, hold on-"

Harry turned his head at the sound of Draco's voice to see him still in the doorway of the shelter, quickly looking left and right. Harry was about to ask him what he was doing when he saw Draco pull his wand out of his pocket, flicking it in a complicated movement and conjuring a pair of sunglasses from thin air.

"There," he said, putting the sunglasses on and pocketing his wand. "Better." He stepped out of the shelter and fell into step beside Harry as they all started along the path, the boys chattering excitedly.

"Impressive magic," Harry commented.

Draco's mouth flickered in a smile. "I'm not as stupid as my life would lead you to believe."

Harry smiled wanly. "Well, there's a difference between intelligence and common sense."

Draco laughed shortly but didn't say anything more. Harry didn't either; in truth he was slightly disconcerted because he couldn't tell where Draco was looking with the sunglasses obscuring his eyes. Blushing slightly and cursing himself for feeling like he was fifteen, he turned his gaze and attention forwards to the boys.

The day was glorious, although not as hot as previous ones had been. The country lane they were walking down was a welcome break from the bustle of London and the Ministry, and for a fleeting moment Harry found himself glad to be suspended from work, just so he could be here with Draco and the boys. The trees that lined the road to their right provided dappled shade, gently fluttering as the leaves were moved by the breeze. It smelt of summer and above the sounds of the boys and the occasional passing car Harry could hear birds and buzzing insects in the hedgerow.

It was almost picturesque, and filled Harry with a strange sense of companionship and contentment. If he stretched his imagination just a little, he could picture him and Draco still holding hands, walking together with the boys in front of them just as they were. In his heart, he could see them as a family.

As far back as he could remember, Harry had always wanted a family of his own. To this day he still missed what he had had with Ginny; the company, the sense of being in it together, the shared space and possessions. He wondered what would happen if he reached out and took Draco's hand in his again. Could really picture Draco as part of the family he'd always wanted?

It helped that Draco was certainly nothing like the person Harry remembered, but he supposed that he hadn't really known him all that well anyway. Draco still had several dubious character traits, but to Harry they were balanced out by the good qualities that were emerging. Really, it wasn't so much about Harry's happiness, but the happiness of his family as a whole. If that's all there was to consider...Draco was rapidly becoming a halfway decent candidate.

"How much further?"

"Just past that sign," Harry said. "Teddy, remember to wait at the gate."

"Yep," Teddy called back, quickening his pace slightly as if Harry's words were a go ahead for him to run off, as long as he waited for them at the gate. Harry chuckled to himself but didn't say anything; the gap in the hedge that contained the gate was in his line of sight anyway so the boys couldn't get too far ahead.

Unable to help himself, he stole another glance at Draco. He was looking up and around them, though whether taking in the surroundings or checking he wasn't being followed, Harry wasn't sure.

"You okay?" he asked casually.

Draco sighed and nodded. "I just…last time I went outside it didn't end too well," he admitted, voice a little tight. "I'm a bit jumpy."

"Understandable," Harry shrugged. "Would it help if I told you to relax?"

"I'm fine," Draco insisted. "Just…it'll take me a while."

Harry nodded and let it drop. He thought he knew that he would make Draco even tenser if he kept talking about it, so chose to let the subject drop and just enjoy the day and Draco's company. It wasn't really that hard to do.

"For some reason, I'd dreading Scorpius getting to that age," Draco commented suddenly, watching as Teddy broke into a run towards the gate, shouting something back at James as he did.

"Don't use Teddy as a gauge of all ten year olds," Harry said a little wearily before raising his voice to call out. "Boys, _wait_."

Teddy obediently skidded to a stop at the gate, a hand reached out and resting on the smooth worn wood. He turned around to face the others, expression impatient. "Hurry up!"

Harry heard Draco smother a laugh and rolled his eyes. Great, another grown-up finding him funny was exactly what Teddy needed. In front of him, James and Al both ran to join Teddy at the gate, but Scorpius fell back to Draco's side. Harry didn't miss the relieved expression on Draco's face as he took Scorpius's hand in his.

"Right," Harry said as he approached the gate. "Rules?"

"Stay where you can see us, don't talk to anyone we don't know, come straight back if you shout," James reeled off. "And no going in the pond."

Harry smiled. "Go on then. Lead the way, Teddy."

With a joint effort that probably hindered more than it helped, together the boys pulled open the gate and darted through without looking back. Harry followed, hearing Draco and Scorpius following just behind him. The path was only short; a dusty brown track that cut through the hedges before opening up into the wide grassy space of the park.

James and Teddy immediately tore off in the direction of the trees, Al following as fast as he could go and shouting after them to wait, which they didn't. Harry watched them run off, a smile on his face.

"Papa," Scorpius said, tugging on Draco's hand and looking hopeful. "Can I go?"

Draco hesitated and then nodded, and Scorpius immediately ran off after Al, shouting his name. Harry glanced at Draco, watching him standing awkwardly, looking torn.

"Come on," Harry said, nudging him with his elbow. "Bet I'm better at climbing trees than you are."

Draco smiled faintly. "You're twenty-seven, you know. Not eight."

"Twenty-six, actually," Harry corrected. "Not as old as you just yet."

Draco shot him an exasperated look but deigned to follow as Harry meandered over the grass towards the trees that Teddy and James had just reached. Al and Scorpius were still following but had slowed to a walk, stooping to pick up things from the ground every so often and showing each other what they'd discovered.

"He's never been to a park like this," Draco said suddenly, face turned towards Al and Scorpius. "Go on, tell me I'm an awful parent."

Harry shook his head. "No," he said simply. "Look, I'm not going to sit and judge you on all the things you have or haven't done. I'm going to judge you on what you choose to do now."

The sunglasses obscured Draco's expression, so Harry couldn't see how he reacted to that statement, but he did nod jerkily, looking away towards the boys once more. They walked in comfortable silence over towards the trees, making a beeline for James and Teddy who were trying to climb one with only a modicum of success.

"Dad, help me up," James panted, hanging from a branch with feet scrabbling at the tree trunk, evidently not having enough strength in his arms to pull himself up. Smiling, Harry walked over and laced his fingers together, putting his cupped hand under James's foot to give him a boost.

"Don't you dare fall," Harry said as James hauled himself up onto a branch, eyes sparkling with delight.

"I won't," James said, already looking up above him for the next branch he could reach. Teddy was already halfway up the tree, climbing like a monkey and calling down at Harry to watch him.

"I'm too little," a familiar voice wailed, and Harry turned his head to see Al reaching up at the next tree, no-where near tall enough to reach any of the low-hanging branches, his small face crumpled with disappointment. Scorpius was stood next to him, looking up at the tree with interest but no obvious desire to climb it.

"You are a bit, sorry mate," Harry said apologetically, glancing back to make sure James wasn't in any danger of falling.

"But it's not fair-"

Before Harry could even think of a way in which he could simultaneously calm Al and keep an eye on James and Teddy, a voice called out from behind him.

"Scorpius, come and help me see how many ducks there are," Draco said, jerking his head over towards the pond. He paused. "Al, do you want to come as well?"

Al looked from Draco, to Harry, up towards James and then shook his head. "I want to climb the tree."

"Fine," Draco said indifferently, and to Harry's surprise turned on his heel. "If I find any treasure by the pond I won't be sharing it with you."

Harry bit back a laugh as Scorpius immediately dashed after Draco, shouting something in French. He watched with a fond smile as Al hesitated for a moment and then ran after them both, all anguish about the tree forgotten.

"Dad! Look at me! Look!"

He had to look away from Draco at James's shout, but was still smiling nonetheless, wondering what Draco would have done had the tactic to distract Al not worked. Would he have simply gone off with Scorpius and left Harry to deal with three children?

He quickly glanced back and his heart skipped a beat as he saw that not only was Scorpius holding Draco's hand as they walked towards the pond, but so was Al.

"Harry! Come up!"

Harry forced himself to look away from the picture of his youngest son hand-in-hand with Draco Malfoy, very aware that by most logic he shouldn't like it as much as he did. He smiled faintly up at Teddy.

"Not today."

"Tomorrow then," Teddy grinned before turning around and reaching for another branch, calling for James to follow him. Harry watched from the bottom, feeling that he'd already had enough excitement in the past few days without attempting to climb trees as well.

Thankfully, the boys grew tired of the tree not long after and both descended in favour of exploring the park at ground level, promising to keep in Harry's sight at all times as they wandered off. Harry didn't follow; he trusted Teddy to do as he was told despite his somewhat excitable personality, and it would be good for James to have fun with someone closer to his own age without adults interfering. Harry chose a spot in the shade of a huge horse-chestnut tree and sat down, leaning back on his hands and laughing to himself as he watched James and Teddy valiantly attempt to do handstands, kicking their feet in the air without much success.

Smiling, he turned his head and saw Draco, Al and Scorpius were on the way back towards him; Draco was walking with his hands in his pockets and Al and Scorpius were skipping along at his side. Draco's mouth was moving but Harry couldn't hear what he was saying. Scorpius was finding it funny whatever it was, though Al was looking a little bemused.

"Alright?" he called when they were close enough to hear,

"Children have too much energy. And ask too many questions," Draco called back. Al and Scorpius were now preoccupied with hunting for sticks on the ground – probably to serve as swords, knowing Al – and Draco left them to it and walked over to flop down beside Harry.

"Did you sun-charm yourself?" Harry asked, amused. "Your cheeks are going pink."

"Bollocks," Draco said, reaching up to touch his face. "Stay very still."

Harry did as he was bid and Draco leant behind him, presumably to stay out of sight as he drew his wand. The only other occupants of the park were way over the other side by the battered old swing-set, but Harry appreciated the discretion anyway; there was no point tempting trouble.

"Did you climb the tree?" Draco asked as he sat back up, slipping his wand into his pocket.

Harry shook his head. "Not today."

"Where's your sense of adventure gone?" Draco asked, and beneath the teasing Harry sensed some genuine curiosity.

"I assume you're not just talking about climbing trees," Harry said with a slight shrug. Draco moved beside him to mirror his pose, sitting next to him with his legs stretched out and his weight leant on his hands behind him.

"If you want to talk about more than trees, I won't stop you."

Harry half-shrugged again. "The adventure was never on my to-do list. I always just wanted simple things. Love and family, that stuff."

"Well, we all know you didn't end up being simple."

Harry laughed. "Not really. Anyway, most of the exciting stuff that happened to me in school was by complete accident. I never went looking for it; I just somehow ended up in the middle of it all."

"The Triwizard Tournament," Draco said, and Harry turned to look at him. "I may have found out that you didn't actually enter yourself into that."

"If you'd been listening at the time you would have known," Harry said, amused despite himself. "I categorically stated on several occasions that I didn't do it."

"Yes, well, at the age of fourteen I wasn't listening to anything but what came out of my own stupid mouth," Draco said and Harry bit back a laugh.

"Well, you seem to be…" Harry paused. "Less of an arse nowadays?"

Draco turned his face towards him and Harry would happily bet that he was glaring at him from behind his sunglasses. "Well, ending up with a kid changes your perspective on things," he said, and then sighed. "And now I'm older I can see where my father went wrong with me. Although it's not like I'm in the position to spoil Scorpius even if I wanted to."

Harry nodded, sitting up and crossing his legs in front of him, leaning forwards and picking at the grass. "It's been hard for me not to spoil my kids," he admitted. "I never had anything growing up, so I just want to give them everything. And after me and Gin divorced it was even worse."

"You don't seem to have done too badly," Draco commented. "Sure, they're demanding kids, but only for your attention. They don't seem to expect you to buy them things all the time," he paused, words faltering. "I didn't meant to call them demanding," he added hurriedly. "It's not-"

"Al is definitely demanding," Harry broke in to save Draco from his verbal flailing. "I know he is. I'm just hoping he'll grow out of it a bit."

Draco didn't reply and Harry cursed the sunglasses again for hiding his eyes from view. Although even with his expression obscured it was easy to work what Draco was stumbling over: the fact he'd said something about Harry's kids that could be viewed as a criticism. Even though the kids were happily growing closer to each other and the new adults in their lives, it seemed Draco and Harry were the ones that couldn't quite get the hang of it.

"I didn't mean for it to come out like that," Draco said, sounding apologetic. "I mean, Scorpius is demanding too."

"I know you didn't say it to be mean," Harry said, a small smile on his face. "I think you're actually starting to like the little buggers."

Draco laughed at that, his face turned towards the children. "I do," he said grudgingly. "I never thought I would, but there you go. They're nice kids without being sickeningly nice."

"Unlike me, right?" Harry grinned.

Draco smiled. "I never said that."

Harry smiled too and turned to watch the children. "I like Scorpius," he admitted. "He just seems so excited by everything."

Draco nodded. "It's lucky, really. He doesn't appear to have turned out that bad despite everything that's gone on."

"Like you," Harry said and saw a pink tinge warm Draco's cheeks, his pale skin a dead giveaway to his feelings and thoughts.

Draco didn't reply but Harry didn't mind; he felt warm and content in the sun and he and Draco were talking like nothing in the world was amiss. They'd even managed to talk about each other's kids without getting defensive or worked up which was probably a miracle considering that Draco didn't even want Harry looking at Scorpius when they first met.

Wanting to stretch his legs out and get comfortable again, Harry leant back on his hands and felt a thrill run through him as his fingers accidentally brushed Draco's. He left them there for a tantalising second, wanting to touch for just a little while before he moved away, but before he could Draco's fingers shifted, pressing closer.

Trembling, Harry moved his fingers slightly so Draco's little and ring fingers were tucked under his, the touch too certain to be considered accidental any longer. He risked a glance at Draco but he was still watching the children, but his cheeks were now clearly flushed and Harry didn't think it was because of the sun. The blades of grass under his hand prickled softly at his skin, and Draco's fingers felt so very warm and solid.

He summoned some courage from somewhere within him and curled his fingers around Draco's; the touch no longer a simple press of hand against hand, but something more purposeful. Draco didn't pull away and Harry felt a thrill of something electric curl through his stomach and chest, something that wanted to hold Draco's hand every moment of every day, a fierce desire to keep him and hold him and never let go.

He tightened his fingers around Draco's unconsciously, feeling a little overwhelmed. He'd not wanted anyone like this since he'd first got to together with Ginny, but even this simple touch of hands felt like so much more. His mind automatically revisited the moment from earlier in which he'd imagined him and Draco together, as a family. He'd barely recalled the thought before realising with startling clarity that he wanted it. Without a doubt, he wanted Draco to be that person that had been missing for the past four and a half years. He wanted to dive in headfirst and share his entire life with Draco, kids and all.

He managed not to say anything out loud, but he couldn't stop himself moving his hand fully over Draco's, brushing his thumb across the back of Draco's fingers. Draco didn't pull away so Harry did it again, feeling his own arms trembling slightly and his breathing slightly uneven in his chest. In that moment he didn't even care that he'd not kissed Draco yet; this felt like so much more. He'd kissed people before that he didn't have feelings for, those blokes he'd been with since his divorce. They hadn't meant anything, the kisses he'd shared with them had just been a necessity, a prerequisite to falling into bed. Harry wanted more with Draco, didn't want to rush it and ruin it. Considering that, the gentle press of hands felt like something more significant; it felt like a promise.

It had to be Draco, didn't it? Everyone else seemed to have known before Harry that something would happen between them, and maybe they were right. Life-debts and old-world magic indeed – Harry should have just admitted he was obsessed with Draco from the start.

Draco wasn't perfect by anyone's standards but neither was Harry; he knew he'd fucked up in the past with his relationships and his duty to the kids, and he couldn't be with someone who would hold that against him or judge him for it. Draco knew more than anyone what it felt like to be in trouble, and Harry had already acknowledged on more than one occasion that he and Draco had had similar experiences that they could both relate to.

Beyond all the in-depth analysis of their shared past, Harry simply wanted Draco. He fancied him, he found him funny when he wasn't being a git and he honestly admired how much Draco cared for Scorpius. There was also an odd sort of feeling in Harry's chest that wasn't willing to share Draco now that Harry had done so much for him. He didn't want to get Draco's life back on track just to hand him over to some other bloke.

Harry smiled, ruefully thinking that it would have been a lot easier had he given in to what he wanted from the start. He batted a fly away with the back of his hand, vowing to stop overthinking everything and just enjoy being with Draco, as he'd resolved to do on more than one occasion already.

Brining himself back to the present moment, he watched Teddy and Scorpius talking, blond heads close together. It was nice to see; Teddy had been thrilled to find out that he had 'real' relatives and appeared undeniably happy to play with Scorpius. Harry smiled and went to make comment to Draco who was also watching the pair, but something stopped him. A strange prickle went down the back of his neck and the words died in his mouth. Frowning, he looked up past the boys and saw that there were a couple of people standing over by the pond, hands in pockets and faces turned towards Harry and Draco. They hadn't been there a moment before, he was sure of it.

He watched them carefully, feeling tense, but then they turned towards the pond, one pulling a half empty bag of bread from a carrier bag they were holding. The woman started to feed the ducks and the man joined in soon after, not looking back towards Harry and Draco even once. The man was wearing a long beige trench-coat and that struck Harry as odd, considering the weather-

"Dad! Can you magic us a football?"

His attention was drawn away from the couple and back to James, who ran up panting and looking hopeful. Harry glanced at Draco who didn't seem to have noticed the couple who had been looking their way, and was instead focussed entirely on James.

"Sure," Harry said, glancing up towards the couple again. As he did the man turned and seemed to look their way, but Harry couldn't be sure. Probably just a couple being nosey and trying to work out if he and Draco were queer or not, he thought dismissively, though not entirely convinced by his rationale.

As he conjured a football behind Draco's back so as not to be seen, he couldn't fully shake the odd feeling that had alerted him to the couple's presence. He was probably just being a little paranoid, what with everything Draco had been through lately. He wondered for a brief moment if he should draw Draco's attention to the pair but decided against it; Harry suspected it would only make him panic and want to go home.

"Are you playing with us?" Al asked Harry hopefully, and Harry grinned.

"I will if you will," he said to Draco, who rolled his eyes.

"If you insist."

Teddy whooped excitedly and Scorpius ran to hug Draco, delightedly declaring something in French and nearly knocking him over. Draco laughed and replied, his tone mischievous and the glance he sent Harry's way doing funny things to his insides.

Harry glanced over towards the pond one last time and saw to his surprise that the couple had gone. All that remained were the ducks that were still waddling around in search of any remaining scraps of bread. Harry frowned, looking around to see if they were visible nearby, but didn't see anyone anywhere near the pond. They couldn't have walked away that quickly, surely?

"Potter?"

He looked around to see Draco eyeing him curiously, sunglasses in hand and frown knitting his brow. Harry glanced one last time around the park and then shook his head, pushing away the niggle of doubt and suspicion in his mind. He climbed to his feet and as he did Draco smiled tentatively at him, making Harry forget all about his worry.

Probably nothing, he told himself, and reached out a hand to pull Draco up too. Draco took it without question and let Harry haul him to his feet, ready to try his hand at playing football with four rather excitable children.

Harry hid a smile of his own as he turned his attention to the boys, privately thinking despite the trouble he'd encountered along the way, he'd keep up this rescuing people business if this was how well it turned out in the long run.


	18. Chapter 18

_**AN:** So sorry this didn't get posted yesterday - I'm sick. Yesterday was curl up in a ball on the bathroom floor and die day, today is curl up in a ball on the sofa and feel very sorry for myself day._

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><p><strong>Chapter 18<strong>

"Do I have to go? Can't I stay? I'll be really good and help you do the washing up and everything, and I promise I'll go to bed when you ask."

Harry smiled tiredly from where he was putting the plates away in the cupboard, finally washed up after dinner. Frankly, he was knackered; despite spending all day in the park with only a short break for lunch, the kids didn't seem to have expended any energy at all. Dinner had been a rowdy affair with the addition of Teddy to the table; the only upside had been that Draco had joined them, sitting opposite Harry and being remarkably calm considering the events of the day. He'd pitched in to help too; dishing out juice and extras for James and Teddy and making Harry completely distracted with his wayward thoughts about how much of a _family_ they were being.

He shut the cupboard door and walked over to Teddy, reaching out to brush his hand over his hair. Teddy frowned, his hair going from blond to brown then back again, the change in colour an indication of both his mood and fatigue.

"That's a no, isn't it?"

"Not tonight, mate," Harry said. "Not enough space at the moment. I'll tell you what, tomorrow I'll make it my first job to put a spare bed in James's room, then you can stop over later in the week."

"I could sleep on the sofa," Teddy said hopefully.

"Not tonight," Harry repeated. "Later in the week, promise."

Teddy sighed but nodded grudgingly. "Alright," he said a little glumly. "But remember you promised."

Harry reached for the pot of floo powder and held it out to Teddy, smiling. "How could I forget?"

Teddy reached for a pinch of floo powder and paused with his hand in the pot, frowning thoughtfully in the way he did when he was about to ask questions about something. Harry braced himself. "You know earlier you told me I could ask later?" Teddy asked, looking up at Harry and not giving him time to think of a plan to divert away from the topic. "Is Draco your boyfriend?"

Harry felt his heart skip in his chest. "Who said anything about me having a boyfriend?"

"Grandma said you were a bit different because you had boyfriends instead of girlfriends," Teddy shrugged. "Not bad different, just not the same as most people."

It sounded so simple coming from Teddy's mouth that it made Harry's chest ache. He blinked and wondered if it actually was that easy.

"Draco's..." he faltered, reaching up to rub at his chin as he tried to think about what to say. "He's an old friend from when I was at school." he said, knowing he was being evasive and feeling incredibly guilty about it.

Teddy just gave him a sly grin. "He can be your boyfriend as well as being a friend from school," he pointed out.

Harry laughed shortly. "Go on. Go home, you menace."

Teddy shot him a winning grin and finally removed his hand from the pot of floo-powder. "Remember, you promised," he said as he threw his handful of powder into the grate. "I'll tell grandma you promised."

"Okay, fine by me," Harry said, feeling a little trepidation at the thought of what _else_ Teddy might tell Andi. "Alright then, off you go."

Teddy obediently stepped into the roaring green flames with a cheery wave, shouting out his home address and vanishing in a twist of glittering green flames. Harry breathed out, and put his hands on the back of his head, leaning back against the table.

"Shite," he muttered, taking his glasses off and rubbing his face with both hands. In his head it had all seemed so simple; he and Draco could take it a step at a time and work out what was between them in their own time. When he added family and inquisitive children to the mix, it made it a tad more complicated.

He knew that it was only fair to explain to his family – and his friends – just what was going on with him and Draco, but he didn't want to make things awkward between them, especially not when they were really starting to get along. He'd happily keep it to himself and not tell anyone anything, but he knew the boys were starting to pick up on the fact something was going on; Teddy's questions and James's comments were proof enough. Aside from that, he knew Ron and the others wouldn't stay quiet for long, especially if the kids decided to voice their thoughts and opinions whilst at Ginny's.

Maybe he could owl everyone, Harry thought with a sigh. Or hold a press conference in his kitchen. Despite himself, his mouth curved as he imaged everyone sat around the table, listening to him as he read a statement out concerning the nature of his relationship with Draco-

"Hey."

A soft voice from the kitchen door made him pause. He turned to see a tall, blurry, blond shape standing in the doorway. Harry smiled faintly and put his glasses back on so Draco came into focus.

"They're all playing in the lounge," Draco said, and paused. "I hid the remote for the tell-vision. I don't like it."

Harry laughed. "You'll get used to it."

There was a pause. They both stood there not saying a word but surprisingly it didn't feel too awkward. It felt a little hesitant, as if they were testing out how to proceed now that everything had changed again.

"Want tea?" Harry suggested, and Draco visibly relaxed.

"God, yes," he said fervently, and moved into the kitchen, walking over to lean on the table next to Harry, close enough so that their shoulders brushed. Harry drew his wand and flicked it towards the kettle, not wanting to move away from Draco until he had to.

"Well, you survived a day with Teddy," Harry said, not wanting the silence to become awkward. "Congratulations."

Draco rubbed his face. "Teddy wasn't the hardest thing to deal with today, believe it or not."

"At least tomorrow will seem a piece of cake by comparison," Harry said, and Draco smiled.

"I think we better see how the rest of today goes," he said quietly, and turned his head to look up at Harry. His eyes were bright and Harry suddenly remembered how he looked with black eyes and a split lip, the frown that had accompanied them. Even as he recalled the state Draco had been in he felt a familiar wave of protectiveness roll through him, a fierce desire to make sure Draco was okay.

Draco looked away and Harry took that as his cue to move. He stepped away from the table towards the kettle with the intention of continuing with the tea, feeling oddly vulnerable with his back to Draco. He hid a smile as he noted that it wasn't long ago that he'd have been nervous in case Draco would hex him when his back was turned. Now, it was something else entirely that made him wish they were face to face.

"So, are we going to talk?"

Draco's soft voice made Harry's hand falter on the mugs he was holding. His heart seemed to surge in his chest, his body suddenly feeling too warm.

"Yeah, I think we should," he said, tapping his wand to the kettle and then waving it over his shoulder to open the fridge to summon the milk. Silence fell as Harry finished making the tea; apparently neither of them were willing to break it and make the first move, to put themselves out there in a position of vulnerability.

Feeling ridiculously nervous, Harry turned to pass Draco his tea. Draco took it with a quiet thank you, leaning back against the table and staring resolutely down at his mug. Harry picked up his own mug and leant back against the worktop, once again face to face with Draco. The two feet between them felt both too far and nowhere near far enough.

"If you think I'm talking first you've got to be joking," Draco said suddenly. "I embarrassed myself enough last night."

Harry took a sip of his tea. "What, because you'd been drinking?"

"No, because I came into your room," Draco said awkwardly. "Here's me going on about you giving me privacy and not coming into my room, and I just waltz into yours."

_Maybe it should just be our room to save on the trouble,_ Harry thought to himself. "I didn't mind," he said aloud, looking down at his tea. "Wasn't a problem. You knocked, at least."

He looked up and shivered as he saw Draco looking at him intently, grey eyes fixed on his face. Harry looked away, feeling a flush rising in his neck.

"Shall I just say what I'm thinking?" he said, his voice sounding odd to his own ears. Draco was still looking at him, he was sure of it. He could all but feel Draco's gaze on him, and _Christ_, he just wanted to close to the gap between them and kiss him until they were both dizzy. He just wanted to stop with the talking and do what he wanted without thinking of the consequences.

"Go on then," Draco said, and his voice was low and trembling and went straight to Harry's groin.

Harry swallowed and took a steadying breath, hoping he wasn't going to revert to babbling when trying to talk to someone he liked. He glanced at Draco and felt his pulse skip because Draco was still _looking_ at him, looking at him in a way that couldn't be considered platonic by any stretch of the imagination.

"I want to be with you," he blurted out, looking down at his tea. "I've not wanted anyone since I left Gin and then you turn up, and everything's just-" he paused, shaking his head and cursing himself for not being able to form articulate sentences. "You're nothing like what I remembered," he admitted. "You're something else and everyone else says I'm obsessed with you and I think they're probably right."

Draco laughed thickly and Harry looked up, heart thudding against his sternum. "I've always liked you," Draco admitted quietly. "Yeah, I hated you as well for quite a while…but now I don't hate you, so that just leaves…"

Harry felt himself grinning, feeling giddy and a little disorientated. "Wow," he said. "Well, that works for me."

Draco's mouth flickered in a weak smile. "We barely know each other."

"I think seventeen years of history leaves us more than qualified," Harry said boldly, unwilling to even consider any more objections, not when he'd been through most of them in his head already. "Look, there's something here and you know it. This doesn't happen every day for me so I'm not just going to let it go."

He dared lift his eyes, heart now racing like he'd been running. Draco was looking at him and the _want_ in his expression was so clear it made Harry feel completely off balance. How long had Draco held a torch for him? Fuck, it didn't even seem to matter because they'd both admitted that they liked each other and surely that was all that counted –

"How do you know though?" Draco said, voice quiet and eyes turned away. "We've not even kissed yet."

Harry's stomach swooped like he'd missed a step going downstairs. "Well, we can fix that easily enough," he said, the words tumbling from his mouth without permission from his brain. Draco's eyes flicked up to his, wide and open and neither of them looked away this time. Harry hesitated and then with a shaking hand set his mug of tea down on the worktop just behind him, his intentions clear with the action. He saw Draco's throat move as he swallowed nervously and then put his own mug down on the table, lifting his eyes to Harry's once more.

His heart was fluttering madly in his ribcage and maybe he _had_ wanted Draco for years because this felt like the best thing to happen in years. He didn't care about what had happened in the past or what anyone would say because at that moment all he wanted was Draco, he _had_ to kiss him, had to know if it would feel as right as he hoped it would. He slowly pushed himself away from the worktop and took a careful step towards Draco, hoping with all his heart that Draco wouldn't change his mind and bolt, and then he was stepping forwards again and he was close enough to touch but he didn't want to freak Draco out-

He drew in a sharp breath through his teeth as Draco raised shaking fingers to brush them across Harry's cheek. The movement was jerky and not altogether comfortable but Harry knew how much it took for Draco to voluntarily touch and be touched, and as such took that as permission to make a move of his own.

Eyes flickering over Draco's face, he carefully slipped a hand onto Draco's waist, wanting to hold onto him in some way. Draco drew in a shaky breath and straightened up marginally, and he was looking Harry in the eyes and this time there was nothing there to stop them and every reason to carry on. Harry stroked his thumb over Draco's jawbone and then gave up on trying to draw out and savour the moment, leaning in -

A muffled scream from upstairs made them both start and turn towards the doorway, breath held. They were still pressed together with Harry's hand on Draco's waist and Draco holding onto Harry's arm, fingers tight on his wrist. Harry's eyes drifted over the closely cropped hairs above Draco's ear and wanted so badly to pull him closer, but before he could another shout echoed from above their heads, followed by a hefty thud and a wail.

"Fucking _shit_," Draco cursed, slumping back against the table as the moment was broken. "They do pick their fucking moments."

Harry groaned. "Can we just ignore that?" he asked, knowing he was whining and not caring one little bit. Even as he said it there was another dull thud and the wailing increased in volume.

"I wish," Draco muttered and then sighed. "We should probably go," he said, though he didn't sound enthusiastic about it. Neither one of them moved for a long moment, and then Harry groaned again and stepped back, inwardly cursing all three children and their bloody epic timing.

"Fuck's sake," he sighed. "Come on. That's your brat up there as well as mine."

He reluctantly stepped away from Draco and headed towards the stairs. The regret and annoyance he felt at missing out on kissing Draco _again_ faded a little, replaced with concern as the screaming and shouting from upstairs continued. Now thoroughly worried, Harry wasted no time in heading up the stairs and into the lounge, Draco following just behind him.

Alarm ran through him as he strode into the lounge to see Al and James in the middle of what appeared to be a full scale scrap, a tearful Scorpius watching from nearby. Without even pausing to think, he dashed over to them and attempted to pull them apart – not an easy task when each had fistfuls of the others clothing and didn't seem to want to let go.

"Boys!" he shouted, feeling completely shocked and also furious at their behaviour. "Pack it in!"

"I hate you!" James howled, still trying to grab at Al even as Harry yanked him back. "I hate you, I hate you!"

"_James!_" Harry shouted and James went limp in his grip, but Al was still trying to kick at him, his face red and screwed up as he cried, and Harry's arms weren't long enough to push him back and keep them apart-

"Jesus Christ," Draco's alarmed voice said just behind him, and before Harry could say anything he stepped over and stooped down to grab Al and haul him away. He lifted him up and set him on his hip, grabbing both of Al's hands in one of his own to keep him from flailing about. Scorpius immediately ran over to him, clinging onto Draco's leg and crying out fitfully in French.

"Enough," Draco said sharply and Al stopped trying to twist free, still sobbing so hard he was coughing. Draco sent a disconcerted look Harry's way before turning his attention back to Al. "Just calm down and breathe," he said, running a hand up and down Al's back to calm him down. Al drew in a shuddering breath and stopped crying, and Harry managed a grateful nod in Draco's direction.

Ridiculously thankful that Draco had dived in to help, Harry turned his attention to James, still feeling shocked but trying to keep calm. "What on earth was that all about?" he asked sternly, sinking down onto his knees and pulling James around to face him. He was still crying angrily, his face blotchy and red.

"He said something nasty about me in French and wouldn't tell me what it was," James bit out, pointing accusatorily at Scorpius. Scorpius shook his head and buried his face in Draco's hip.

Harry blew out a breath and looked up to Draco who was also looking a bit lost. Harry shook his head and tried to collect himself. "How do you know it was nasty?" he asked James, reaching out to wipe his tears away with his fingers.

"The way he said it," James managed, shoulders shaking as he tried not to cry. "Then he whispered to Al and Al laughed so I pushed him and-"

"And you said Dad didn't like me anymore!" Al burst out. "You _did_."

"I didn't-"

"You _did!_"

"Whoa, whoa," Harry interjected. "Calm down. Al, what did James say? No, James, you'll get your turn again in a moment. Al."

"He said, he said that you didn't like me anymore because Scorpius was here and you didn't need me because I was youngest," Al managed through more tears, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. "He said there wasn't room, and I'd have to go back to Mum's on my own-"

"Alright, that's enough," Draco broke in, eyes flicking quickly to Harry and then back to Al. "No more tears."

To Harry's surprise, Al fell quiet once again, the only noise he made a result of the shaky breaths he was taking. Draco looked at him, a small frown on his face, and then reached out to wipe the tears from under Al's eyes, just as Harry had done for James.

Harry looked back to James, half-hoping that he hadn't said any of the things that Al had accused him of. "James?" he asked, a warning edge to his voice.

James hesitated for a moment and then the words all came tumbling out in a rush. "I only said it because Teddy told me! He said you had a boyfriend but I said you didn't and he said I didn't know because I wasn't old enough, and then he said it would be all different because it wasn't like Mum and Neville because Neville didn't have any kids that were just his own, but _he's_ got Scorpius and he's more important, and then Scorpius said something mean-"

"I did not," Scorpius interjected fearfully.

"Yes you did!" James shouted back.

"Scorpius?" Draco asked sternly, and Scorpius hid his face again.

"Je n'ai rien dit du tout-"

Draco glared down at him. "You better tell me the truth. And in English. So we can _all_ understand you."

"I said he wasn't my friend, only Al was," Scorpius admitted, his voice small. "I didn't mean it."

"Then why did you say it?" Draco said, sounding frustrated.

Harry looked from James to Scorpius and then up at Al and Draco. "I think," he said quietly, knowing deep in his heart what he had to do. "We all need to sit down and talk about what's going on."

His eyes were on Draco as he said it, and he saw the fleeting worry that passed over his face, a flicker of uncertainty and fear. It passed quickly but Draco still hesitated, the seconds drawing out before he drew in a deep breath, meeting Harry's eyes and nodding.

"Come on," Harry said softly to James, taking his hand before standing up and walking over to the sofa. Draco faltered slightly and then followed suit; with Al still in his arms he walked over and sat down next to Harry. Scorpius followed suit and they all settled down together, pushing and jostling to get comfortable. James curled up on Harry's knee, face resting against Harry's chest and Harry watched as Draco pulled Scorpius into the gap between them, keeping Al on his knee but sitting close enough so that Al could reach out and touch Harry if he wanted. Harry half expected Al to clamour to sit with him, but he looked exhausted and also slightly wary of James, and as such he stayed exactly where he was on Draco's knee.

Harry didn't say anything right away. He ran his hand up and down James's back, feeling a little helpless. He didn't know what to tell the boys – they were obviously confused about the new dynamics in the house but he couldn't just say that he and Draco were a couple like Neville and Ginny, could he? He and Draco knew that they liked each other and had sort of agreed that they wanted to give things a go, but to tell the kids would set it in stone, and not give them any option but to see it through.

"Calmer?" He asked James softly, and James nodded. "Right, apologies first."

"I'm sorry," James said immediately, and Harry smiled ruefully.

"Who are you talking to and what are you sorry for?"

James's eyes flickered over Al and then back to his feet. "Sorry to Al for fighting," he mumbled. "Sorry to you for making you cross."

Harry ran a hand over his head. "Thank you. Al?"

"Sorry James for fighting," he said, his voice still wobbly and catching. "Sorry, Dad."

Harry caught Draco's eye and Draco nodded.

"You were part of this as well," he said to Scorpius, who leant into his side, holding onto his arm. "Apologies. In English."

"Sorry," Scorpius said, and his eyes flickered over James. "I didn't mean it."

"You can't speak French and refuse to tell people what you've said," Draco said to him, who blinked but otherwise didn't acknowledge that he'd heard. "How would you like it if I said something in German and then wouldn't tell you what I'd said?"

"I don't speak German," Scorpius said fearfully, looking up at Draco and slipping his fingers in his mouth.

"Exactly," Draco said. "Don't do it. It's not nice."

Scorpius nodded, fingers still in his mouth. Appeased, Draco turned back to look at Harry, the look on his face clearly showing that he was well aware that this wasn't over yet. Harry lifted his eyebrows in question and Draco sighed heavily but then nodded. Harry just hoped he understood what he was asking.

"I think we've gotten a bit confused since Draco and Scorpius moved in," he said, heart fluttering strangely and feeling like he were about to step off a cliff. He glanced up and saw Draco was watching him, head tipped back against the back of the sofa. He looked back down at James and over to Al and Scorpius.

"Draco and Scorpius aren't going anywhere," he said quietly, feeing James shift on his knee. "They live here now, but that doesn't mean that anything else will change. I love you two just the same," he said to Al and James. "No-one is more important to me than you, and you'll never be sent anywhere you don't want to go. It'll be some time with me, some time with Mum, just as it's always been."

"Will Scorpius come with us to Mum's house?" Al asked, and Harry shook his head.

"Not necessarily."

"Where's his Mum?" James asked, and Harry glanced up to Draco.

"In France," Draco said after a pause. "We haven't seen her since Scorpius was a tiny baby, so he stays with me all the time."

James nodded, accepting the explanation without fuss. Harry looked to Scorpius but he didn't seem at all perturbed by the brief mention of his mother. He was just leaning on Draco's arm with his legs pressed against Harry's thigh, looking up at Harry expectantly.

"What did Teddy tell you today, then?" Harry asked James, feeling slightly uneasy about what he mind hear.

"He said Draco was your boyfriend," James said, his forehead creasing in a frown. "He said that's why you live together, but I said you didn't have the same bedroom."

Harry bit back a wan smile, helplessly amused by James's rationale behind the situation. He ran his hand over James's back and sighed, looking towards Draco for some hint about what to say, what to tell them. If he said no, then he and Draco would have to hide their feelings – which wasn't going to be easy considering how perceptive the kids were – or stay away from each other full stop.

Draco looked at Harry and then down at the kids. He reached out to sift his fingers through Scorpius's hair and then after a moment that seemed to last forever, met Harry's eyes again and nodded.

Harry nodded back, feeling his stomach clench. This was it, now or never. Take the risk and go for it with Draco, or stay away completely.

"He is my boyfriend," he said, and James twisted around to look up at him. Harry didn't dare look at Draco. "And I care about him a lot. Doesn't mean I love any of you lot any less though. We love you lot more than anything."

James nodded, and so did Al. "So it is like Mum and Neville," James said, though he didn't sound completely sure.

"Scorpius is like Alice," Al broke in, and Harry smiled.

"A bit, not quite though," he said, and caught Draco's eye. Draco smiled faintly and Harry's stomach skipped. "So it's not that different to how it used to be. In one house you've got Mum and Neville, and in the other you've got me and Draco."

"Are you allowed to have a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend?" Al asked, looking at Harry with concern. Harry reached out to flick his fingers against Al's nose, making him smile.

"Course I am," he said, his chest aching with guilt as he thought of how he'd never explained this properly until now. "Most boys have girlfriends, and most girls have boyfriends. Some people are just different. It's not bad to be different, it just depends on who you are."

James nodded. "And that's why you couldn't live with Mum anymore."

Harry felt a lump in his throat. "Yeah," he said, holding James close. "That's right."

"So, Teddy was right?" James asked, looking a bit crestfallen. Harry fought a mad urge to laugh.

"Only a bit," he said. "Next time, you come talk to us instead of listening to Teddy. He's not right all of the time."

"You are though, right?" James asked and Harry laughed.

"Most of the time," he said. "Now, go and play in Al's room. If there's any more fighting you'll all be sitting on the stairs until bedtime."

The three boys nodded fervently. James turned to hug Harry tightly and Harry kissed him on the side of his face, feeling guilty and relieved all at once. He smiled as James pulled back and was at once replaced by Al, who sprawled across Harry's lap, arms around his neck.

"I'd never send you away, not ever," Harry murmured into his hair. "Not even if you were the naughtiest boy in the world."

Al laughed. "I'm not naughty."

Harry smiled, kissing his temple. "Go and play."

Al smiled and slipped off Harry's lap, racing towards the door with Scorpius following just behind. Breathing out deeply, Harry leant forwards with his elbows on his knees, watching them go and hoping that the talk they'd had would be enough. He felt incredibly guilty for not having done this earlier, although it had seemed redundant to cause any fuss when it wasn't needed.

He turned to look at Draco, feeling nervous all over again. Draco smiled tiredly at him, flopping back onto the sofa.

"You better hope this works out now you've said that," he said with a shaky laugh. "Talk about doing things back to front."

"God, I know," Harry said fervently. "I just – they knew something was going on and I didn't want to-"

"Shut up, Potter," Draco said, cutting him off. "You did the right thing."

Harry blinked at him, the wind taken out of his sails and his defensive words dying on his tongue. "I did?"

"Yes, you did," Draco said. "I wouldn't have let you say it if I didn't agree."

Harry smiled weakly at him and Draco smiled faintly back. The word _boyfriend_ was echoing around Harry's head and he wished it didn't sound so daft. He couldn't really complain though; despite the matter being effectively taken out of his hands by the boys he'd still ended up with what he wanted.

"Just so you know, I'd still have said we were together even if the boys hadn't twisted my arm with it," he said casually. "Maybe not as soon, but-"

He stopped talking as he felt a hand on his cheek, fingertips applying just enough careful pressure to make him turn his head. Guided by Draco's fingers, Harry turned to look at him and didn't even have time to blink before Draco was right there, leaning in and pressing his mouth to Harry's.

Harry's heart stopped, he was sure of it. He managed to make a surprised noise in the back of his throat, shutting his eyes and reeling in the sensation of Draco's lips against his, soft and warm and perfect - God, it felt like he'd been waiting _forever_. He raised a trembling hand to brush against Draco's jaw, lost in the feel and taste of Draco's mouth against his own – he'd never felt a kiss like this, not with Ginny, not with _anyone_, a kiss that seemed to pull his entire body taut, stealing the breath from his lungs.

It was over in a second, but to Harry it felt like the fleeting moment had lasted years. Draco broke the kiss, pulling back and resting his forehead against Harry's, his eyes still shut "You talk too much," Draco whispered, and his whole body was shaking.

"Oh," Harry managed, his whole body still tingling and his brain not functioning as well as it normally did. "Sorry."

Draco laughed softly, a warm breath of air across Harry's face. "Can we really do this?" he asked, the vulnerability and fear creeping back into his voice, just enough so that Harry noticed.

"I reckon so," Harry whispered back, lifting his hand to brush his thumb across Draco's cheekbone. Draco drew in a sharp breath so Harry didn't push him for any more; he just stayed where he was, gently stroking Draco's face and letting him become used to the sensation of being touched. He was completely stunned and amazed that Draco had been the one to initiate the kiss between them, but he wasn't stupid enough to make comment of it.

"This is mental," Draco whispered, moving his face so his cheek rested against Harry's, the rough scratch of stubble setting Harry's nerves alight. He ached to touch Draco, to run his hands all over him but he knew that he had to be careful.

As if Draco were thinking along the exact same lines, he leant back and shot Harry an apprehensive look. "Just…it sounds stupid to say this when we're going pretty fucking fast…can we take it slow?"

Harry nodded, understanding. "I've not heard you swear in a while," he commented, unable to stop the grin from breaking out over his face. "That's a relief, for a moment I was worried you weren't actually Draco Malfoy."

Draco scowled at him. "Sod off," he said half-heartedly, and then breathed in and out deeply, glare fading into something more pensive. "Sure you want to do this?"

Harry nodded, and reached out for Draco's hand. "I am if you are."

"That's reassuring," Draco snorted, but slipped his hand into Harry's anyway, his expression tentative and hopeful. "I want to try."

Harry smiled and lifted his free hand to Draco's face once more. Draco reached up to put his hand over Harry's to hold it in place and Harry took that as his go-ahead, leaning in to gently kiss him once more. Draco didn't pull away and this time gently kissed him back, a gentle movement of lips against Harry's. It wasn't much but it was enough to make the kiss feel like a _real_ kiss with purpose, more than just mouths touching. Harry found himself lost in the sensation, already addicted to the taste of Draco's mouth and the feel of his body close to his.

_Not exactly the plan you had when you were nineteen_, a voice in his brain said, and Harry smiled against Draco's mouth. Sod the plan, this was working out _brilliantly_.


	19. Chapter 19

_**AN:** Thank you to everyone who has been patient with me and sent me lovely messages of support. Just to clarify, I'm certainly not dead. I'm still pretty unwell and finding it difficult to write, but am slowly getting back into it. I've had some better writing days in the past week, so fingers crossed I can get back in the swing of things :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 19<strong>

Draco didn't dare move. Not even to scratch his nose or to push his fringe out of his eyes. He was still comfortably laid out on the sofa in the lounge next to Harry, head pillowed on Harry's chest and hand resting lightly on his stomach. He wasn't even completely sure that Harry was awake, but he didn't dare look up to check. He just stayed perfectly still, feeling the soft rise and fall of Harry's chest as he breathed.

He had kissed Harry Potter. He, Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, son of a Death Eater, rentboy Draco Malfoy had kissed Harry Potter, and it seemed to have gone down rather well. If the look on Harry's face had been anything to go by, it had gone down really, _really_ well.

Even lying there quiet and still in Harry's arms, with one of Harry's arms looped gently around his waist, he didn't quite dare believe it. He never got this lucky, and certainly not concerning Harry Potter. He'd wasted many nights of his teenage years – and some of his days, come to think of it – thinking longingly and bitterly of such a scene. Being in a relationship with someone that he actually wanted to be with had never seemed like a real possibility to Draco, which had only served to fuel the resentment that had clouded his teenage years. He had been so used to getting his own way, and to realise that the privilege of being handed everything he wanted by his parents ironically meant that he couldn't have the one thing he'd grow to need. He had been a Malfoy before anything else; nothing more and nothing less than his father's son, and had been expected to grow up and take his place as head of the household, to continue the Malfoy lines appropriately. Daydreaming about kissing Harry Potter - or any boys for that matter - hadn't fit well with that in any context.

But that was over now; he was twenty-seven, free to make his own choices without anyone trying to do it for him. He didn't have to answer to anyone but himself, and as soon as he let himself he quickly found that he quite liked lying with Harry, calm and peaceful and like he'd been there all his life. He felt hypersensitive to everything nearby; the feel of warm cotton under his palm, the rough scratch of denim against his own legs, the quiet sounds of Harry's breathing.

God, it was so achingly perfect; everything Draco had ever wanted and never dared to admit. To be able to do this with someone who actually wanted to be with him rather than simply paying for him was amazing. After that first night on the job Draco had been left distraught, thinking that he'd never been able to have a relationship or anything _real_ again, helplessly and bitterly seeing himself as used goods, something tarnished and unable to be loved.

Unease rose in his stomach as he thought about it and he pushed the thoughts away. He didn't dare mention it to Harry, even though part of him already desperately wanted to reaffirm that Harry was okay with what Draco had done – well, maybe he wouldn't be okay with it as such, but he'd at least have to tolerate it if this relationship were ever to go any further.

Unable to bear the thought of Harry not wanting him because of what he'd done, Draco mentally shook himself and then turned his mind to the boys and the part they had played in getting him and Harry together. Now he wasn't as overprotective over Scorpius as he had been to begin with, Draco could appreciate that it was lucky that Harry had warmed to him. It was one thing to find someone who didn't mind that Draco had a kid, and another thing completely for that someone to be so obviously taken with the brat.

Brat was definitely the right term for Scorpius at the moment, Draco thought ruefully as he recalled the fight that had happened earlier. Even though Al and James had been the ones that had resorted to actually scrapping, it had been clear that Scorpius had had a rather large hand in causing it. Draco still couldn't help but be disappointed that Scorpius had said something so hurtful to James – partly because Draco knew it was the exact sort of thing he'd have done when he was younger. Oh well, he thought. Scorpius was only four and he was still learning – this was his first experience of getting on with other children, so all in all Draco supposed that he wasn't doing too badly.

He couldn't deny that part of him had wanted to keep Scorpius with him after the fight, a familiar urge to make sure he was safe and comfortable, close to Draco's side. However, for the first time since he couldn't remember when, Draco had wanted to be with someone else more. God, he really was in over his head, wasn't he? He couldn't help the small shiver that ran down his spine as he thought of him and Harry being in an official _relationship_. Granted, they'd only somehow stumbled into the relationship as not to confuse or upset the boys, but still. Draco didn't care; it was what he wanted, so how they'd got there didn't seem to matter.

There had been a moment in which Draco had been seized with an odd sense of worry, a fear that Harry had only said what he'd said to keep the boys happy. Thankfully, the fear had been assuaged the moment Harry had broken the second kiss in order to hold Draco close, hands clenched tightly in Draco's shirt and countenance more desperate than Draco had anticipated. It was if Harry had been clinging to Draco's shirt to stop himself clinging to Draco, and Draco understood that Harry didn't want to scare him off by touching too much too soon. A gentle hug in return then a subtle push back onto the sofa so they were lying down, and Harry had calmed down significantly. His hands had still been jittery, darting about as if he couldn't decide where to settle them. Draco hadn't commented, and had been relieved and thankful when Harry had finally settled for the loose embrace around Draco's middle. It was gently comforting, but not stifling or possessive.

Two kisses. He'd kissed Harry _twice_ and Draco was already well and truly hooked. He couldn't fully comprehend how it had happened when they had spent so long hating each other; misunderstanding and antagonising. He found he didn't really care about that either; that small selfish part of him didn't want to question how it had happened, he just wanted to keep Harry for himself and never let go.

He wondered how Harry was feeling right now. What would he be thinking? Was he thinking about Draco, or actually bothering to watch whatever rubbish that stupid box was spouting? Amidst all of his thoughts about Harry, Draco spared one in order to vow to hide the television remote the first opportunity he got.

Before he could formulate a thought about where to possibly hide the remote, Draco felt a yawn threatening in the pit of his chest, rising unstoppably up through his throat and out of his mouth before he could quell the urge. He tried to clamp his lips shut against it, afraid that if he made a sound the moment between him and Harry would shatter beyond repair.

The effort to keep quiet had come too late; Harry shifted beside him in response to the muffled yawn and Draco braced himself to be pushed away or asked to move. He tensed up, and then to his surprise he felt a soft kiss pressed to his temple, so gentle that if he weren't as attuned to Harry's presence by his side he would have thought he had imagined it.

Unable to help himself any longer, he lifted his upper body away from Harry's so he could look down at him and see his face, propping himself up on an elbow. Harry remained lying down, head resting on a pillow and expression oddly apologetic.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Couldn't help myself."

Draco half-frowned, half-smiled down at him. Harry really was an odd bundle, wasn't he? Not nearly as selfish and troll-headed as Draco had remembered him to be. He was more thoughtful, more…was romantic the right word? It sounded silly, even in Draco's head, but he couldn't quite shake the notion. He recalled the moment they'd had together in the park and the conversation they'd had in the kitchen…it really did seem that Harry just wanted a simple, peaceful life with someone by his side.

How he'd ended up wanting that person to be _Draco_ was something for the Department of Mysteries to figure out, because Draco didn't even know where to start.

As he looked down at Harry's calm expression, he was seized with a sudden and unexpected urge to touch him, to press his fingertips against warm skin. Not wanting to second-guess himself or allow the urge to fade before he could act on it, he reached up with his free hand to trace his fingers gently along the side of Harry's face, from his cheekbone down to his chin. It was Harry's turn to look surprised; his mouth fell slightly open and his eyes widened as Draco touched him, and Draco let himself trace his slightly trembling fingers across Harry's lower lip, eyes intently following the path of his fingertips. It was oddly empowering to be able to touch someone without feeling like he had to, knowing that Harry wanted to be touched by Draco and no-one else.

As he felt warm breath on his fingers he found himself fervently hoping that Harry wouldn't do anything daft like talking, because that would really ruin the moment. Feeling his heart speed up in his ribcage, Draco wondered how Harry would react if he kissed him again. Would he lie back and passively accept the kiss, or would he push for more? Draco didn't think that Harry would demand anything from him; he rather supposed that Harry would just let Draco do as he liked and reciprocate as much as he knew Draco would allow.

His eyes flicked down to Harry's mouth and then back up again. Maybe later, he thought, some hesitant feeling in his stomach holding him back. If he leant down now they'd be kissing whilst horizontal and that was further than Draco was prepared to go at that moment. But if they _didn't_ kiss that meant they would probably have to talk, and Draco wasn't sure which he felt more apprehensive about. Fuck, but he _wanted_ to kiss him again, maybe he should just shove away those awkward feelings and do it, power through the moment and hope that he wouldn't panic-

"Dad?"

A voice from the other side of the room called time on his internal debate, and also solved the problem over what he should do. He turned his head to see all three boys in the doorway, all looking subdued and sleepy. Next to Draco, Harry pushed himself up onto his elbows, concern in his expression. The movement brought their bodies and faces close together again, making Draco feel shivery and warm inside, even as he tried to focus on the boys. "What's up?" Harry asked, voice matching the sight worry in his expression.

"We're tired," James said quietly.

"Want taking to bed?" Harry asked, and James nodded. Draco felt his heart swell as he watched Scorpius standing between Al and James, close enough to rest his forehead against James's shoulder.

"Do I have to go in the bath?" he asked as he met Draco's eyes, temple still pressed lightly against James's arm. "I am too tired to go in the bath."

Draco smiled, biting his lip. "Not tonight, then," he said, and Scorpius moved away from James and padded over towards the sofa. Al instantly followed him, but James hovered for a moment, looking unsure. His eyes flicked between Harry and Draco, and Draco realised that he was probably still trying to process the change in dynamics within the house. It was one thing for a seven-year old to be told his Dad preferred to have boyfriends rather than girlfriends, and another thing entirely to be confronted with evidence of that right before his eyes.

Harry and Draco both sat up properly as Scorpius clambered onto the sofa, slipping onto Draco's knee and leaning back against his chest. Al allowed himself to be pulled onto Harry's knee, looking exhausted. Harry paused, and then held out a hand towards James.

"S'okay mate," he said softly.

James twisted his fingers together. "Did we interrupt you?"

"Not at all," Harry smiled, and James immediately walked over and took Harry's hand. He leant heavily against Harry's legs, looking at Draco with wide eyes and what could have been curiosity. Draco wished he knew what to say to reassure him, but he honestly didn't have a clue where to start without sounding like an idiot or overstepping the mark. Resting his chin on-top of Scorpius's head, he offered James a small smile and was relieved when it was returned, a small hitch of the corner of James's mouth.

"Bed?" Harry asked, giving the boys a gentle squeeze around their middles. They both nodded their agreement, Al burying his face in Harry's shirt.

"Carry me?"

For once Harry didn't argue. He just gently made both boys step back before standing up and then bending down to pick Al up, setting him on his hip and then reaching out for James's hand. Smiling faintly, Draco watched James hold onto Harry's hand with both of his own, pressing his mouth to the top of Scorpius's head and feeling ridiculously glad to have him in his arms.

"See you in a bit," Harry said softly, and Draco nodded, his stomach at once flipping over and filling up with something light and jittery. He cursed internally , trying not to be so stupidly excited over the mere prospect of spending more time with Harry.

Harry left the room without another word, his attention on James and Al; Draco could hear Al quietly mumbling something at him, but wasn't able to discern any words. He didn't spend any time worrying over it; the moment the others left the room Scorpius twisted around on his knee, snaking his arms around Draco's neck.

"Can we go to the park again one day?" he said quietly. "I liked it."

Draco smiled, hugging him back tightly and shutting his eyes. "Course," he whispered, not entirely adverse to the idea himself, not that he'd be admitting it out loud any time soon.

Scorpius pulled back, knees digging into Draco's legs painfully as he wriggled. "You like Harry, don't you?"

Draco paused, wondering if it were a statement or a question. It should have been answered already anyway, what with the conversation they'd had with the boys earlier. "You understood what Harry said earlier, didn't you?" Draco asked cautiously, not entirely sure what the response would be.

"You look not so cross when Harry is here," Scorpius said, completely ignoring the question and reaching out to press his fingers against Draco's forehead, just between his eyes.

"Scorpius," Draco admonished gently, batting his hand away.

Scorpius smiled at him. "Your cross face is gone," he said, reaching out and smoothing his fingers over Draco's forehead again, and Draco realised what he was talking about; the lack of frown lines on his face.

He smiled faintly, catching Scorpius's fingers and pretending to bite them. "How do you know it's not you making my cross face go away?"

Scorpius pulled his hands back, cradling them safely against his chest and smiling. "You like Harry as well as me."

"I do," Draco admitted softly, and Scorpius turned big grey eyes on him.

"He's your boyfriend," Scorpius said, and Draco again wondered if Scorpius knew what that meant. It had always been just him and Draco, with no-one else to consider or include. Scorpius had never really met any other adults who could be considered normal, either – did he know about relationships and all that stuff?

"Yeah," Draco said softly. "It means - well, it just means that we like each other a lot, and like spending time together..."

Scorpius nodded again. "James told me. He said when you get to be a grown up you don't like to be just by yourself, so you find someone to be a pair with. Not just someone," he amended, twisting the material of Draco's shirt between his fingers. "Only if you love them."

Draco felt his cheeks warming. Wonderful, yet more wisdom from James Potter. "He's about right," he said, and then pulled Scorpius around on his lap so he could stand up with him. "Come on, bed. Al will think you've vanished."

"Have not," Scorpius said tiredly, holding on around Draco's neck as he was carried out of the room and along the landing.

"Staying with me or Al?" Draco asked softly and then wished he could kick himself. He should have just put Scorpius in Al's room and not asked – Scorpius had to start growing up at some point or he was going to be stuck and completely dependent on Draco. It didn't matter that Draco still wanted Scorpius with him - it was undoubtedly good for Scorpius to have his own space and a little bit of independence.

"Al," Scorpius said tiredly, and Draco inwardly thanked the stars for giving Scorpius more bravery than _he_ had. "Dragon is in there."

Draco obliged, walking across to Al's room and gently pushing the door open with his shoulder. The room was dim, and he could see Al already tucked in under his blankets, which meant Harry must already be down the corridor putting James to bed.

"Draco?"

Al's sleepy voice called out as Draco padded across the room towards Scorpius's bed. "Yeah, just me," Draco replied, his voice low. "Scorpius is staying with you again tonight."

"We'll play in the morning," Al said sleepily. "Dad says to go to sleep."

Draco smiled faintly. Never mind what Harry said, both kids were almost asleep anyway without having to be told. He carefully set Scorpius down on his bed and helped him climb under his blankets, passing him the toy dragon when he held his hand out, resisting the urge to hold his hand instead.

"Night," he whispered. "Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime," Scorpius whispered back, and Draco leant over to kiss his forehead. Scorpius sighed sleepily and then his eyes were shut, eyelids fluttering gently as he settled.

Not wanting to prolong the moment and give himself time to worry about leaving Scorpius, Draco stood up quickly and made to leave the room. As he did, he saw Al move, a small hand reaching out towards him.

"Say goodnight," Al said, and Draco paused, but then obediently walked over. He hesitated again, and then reached out and took Al's outstretched hand in his, wondering if Harry would object.

"I have a bruise," Al said, twisting his arm around to show Draco, even though it was too dark to see properly anyway. "Look."

"Well that's what you get for fighting," Draco said quietly. "Want me to spell it away?"

"No, I'll be alright," Al said. "I'm brave."

Draco bit back a smile. "Goodnight, trouble," he whispered, giving Al's hand a squeeze and then carefully setting it back on his blankets. "See you tomorrow."

Al nodded. "Night," he yawned, and then finally shut his eyes, giving Draco his chance to slip out of the room. Walking towards the door, he felt nervous butterflies flapping in his stomach once again as he thought about what might be waiting for him on the other side. He reached for the door handle and hesitated, feeling oddly vulnerable that he didn't know what was going to happen. He and Harry had changed everything within such a short amount of time, and it was hard to keep up. Would there be more kissing? Would Harry insist they try to talk about something or other?

He'd never know if he didn't find out, Draco thought, wishing his mental voice sounded a bit braver than it currently did. _Man up,_ he told himself firmly. _He likes you. Go and make him like you even more._

He breathed out in a sigh and then made his mind up, pushing the door open and ready to face whatever would come next.

* * *

><p>"Night, trouble," Harry whispered, gently kissing James's temple and then reaching down to pull the blankets up over his shoulder. James made a sleepy noise in his throat but didn't say anything or even open his eyes; clearly the busy day had caught up with him, leaving him completely exhausted. Harry smiled and gently brushed his hair back from his face, absently noting that he needed a haircut.<p>

He stood up carefully and padded over to the door, slipping out and waving his wand to turn off the lamp beside the bed. Shutting the door behind him, he walked along the long corridor that separated James's room from the rooms closer to the top of the stairs, slowing to a halt as he heard a soft noise from further along the landing. Coming to a standstill, he waited and then saw Draco edge out of Scorpius and Al's room, gently closing the door behind him.

Harry felt something skip in his stomach, a strange warm twist that moved up through his chest. Draco looked around and up at him and the feeling intensified as their eyes met. It had only been a few hours since they'd kissed and all Harry wanted to do was to take Draco in his arms and do it again.

Harry's eyes flickered over Draco's face and then back to his eyes. "Okay?"

Draco nodded, reaching up to twist one of his earrings in his fingers. "Out like fairy-lights," he said. "Knew they were tired."

Harry rubbed his chin ruefully. "I bet that's half the reason they had a fight earlier. I swear to god they don't normally fistfight like that."

Draco snorted tiredly. "They'd put a pair of scrapping Crups to shame," he said. "Al's got a bit of a bruise on his arm but I think he's quite proud of it."

Harry laughed. "He'll be so nice to James for the rest of the week," he said. "You just watch; he'll be a right creep."

Draco smiled and silence fell between them, both standing a little way apart along the corridor. Draco suddenly seemed very interested in the bannister and Harry stared resolutely at his socks, wriggling his toes against the carpet. It was strange; they'd kissed and Draco was now technically Harry's boyfriend but here they were, acting like a pair of shy sixteen year olds who didn't know how to talk to one another.

"What…what do you want to do this evening?" Harry finally asked. He looked up and saw Draco shrug.

"Well, we could sneak out of the house and go on a wild night of partying and end up drunkenly swimming around in a fountain…" he said casually. "Or you could go make us both tea, I could find a shitty book from your collection and we could go sit on the sofa and relax?"

Harry smiled. "I like the second option."

Draco laughed, rubbing his face. "So do I," he sighed. "I feel old."

"I feel knackered," Harry confessed. "I'll be asleep by ten, you just watch."

"I think I'll join you," Draco said absent-mindedly, and then winced, cheeks going pink. "I meant I'll be in bed early too," he clarified hurriedly, clearing his throat. "Not…yeah."

Harry took pity on him, though he couldn't deny that Draco's slip up had definitely been an intriguing thought at least. "Tea?" he asked with a smile, faintly humoured by Draco's hasty backpedalling.

Draco nodded and turned away. "Going to get a book," he said and quickly slipped into his room and out of Harry's sight.

Harry watched him go, then smiled to himself and padded down the stairs to make tea. The house was quiet and still and Harry was grateful for the relative peace after the busyness of the day. He couldn't deny that he'd loved the day out with the kids; it was what he'd always wanted, to be able to spend time with his family with someone by his side. For so long he'd thought he'd never be able to have that again, what with being Harry Potter and having two kids; it was a lot for anyone to take on board whist navigating the whole issue of dating. But sitting with Draco and watching the kids playing together had been like a snippet of what he'd always wanted.

And as if it were Draco Malfoy that he'd managed to find it with. If someone had told him seven years ago that he'd be in this situation, he would have laughed. He would have told them that Draco Malfoy would never be in a relationship with anyone, let alone Harry, because he only cared about himself. Harry certainly couldn't say that anymore; it had probably taken the arrival of Scorpius for Draco to care about anyone else but himself, but it didn't matter. At the end of the day, Draco did care, and Harry was pretty sure that it wasn't just Scorpius that Draco gave a shit about.

As he turned around he saw his raincoat hanging on the back of the kitchen door, and his mind was immediately drawn away from his daydreams of family back to the figures that he'd seen in the park earlier that day. He frowned, recalling the suspicion he'd felt. It hadn't seemed right, the way they appeared and disappeared so quickly, although he had had Draco and the boys to distract him and could easily have missed the couple entering through the gate near the pond. Despite the odd pattern of movement, it was the fact that the bloke had been wearing a trenchcoat that perturbed Harry the most; the day had been really warm despite the mild breeze and they'd be standing right in full view of the sun.

He poured the tea, still thinking hard. The couple hadn't made any moves to come near Harry and Draco, but they had been looking their way, hadn't they? Harry couldn't be completely sure, but neither could he fully shake the odd feeling of suspicion.

He tried to put it out of his mind, putting the milk away and then picking up both mugs of tea. He was bound to be a little paranoid considering everything Draco had been involved with, and he hadn't got any definite proof that anything had been amiss.

Making his way back upstairs with a mug of tea in hand, he turned his thoughts to the fact he'd somehow ended up in a relationship. It was a little overwhelming and obviously completely mental, but it still felt deep down in his heart that it was right, hopefully for everyone. The kisses they'd shared earlier had definitely helped Harry to trust that he'd made the right choice, and the fact that Draco had been the one to kiss Harry was simply amazing. If Draco were willing to get past his insecurities and issues to kiss Harry, then that had to be a good sign, right?

Padding up to the living room, he immediately saw that Draco was already sat on the sofa, curled up at the far end with his legs pulled underneath him and a book on his lap. The feeling that he'd made the right choice intensified as Harry acknowledged the fact that Draco had chosen to come and spend time with Harry, rather than taking the option of hiding away in his room and not facing up to how things had changed between them. Smiling, Harry slipped through the doorway and watched as Draco looked up, the corner of his mouth hitching in a weak smile.

"You're like my own personal tea-slave," he said as Harry walked over. "I like it."

"Don't get used to it," Harry said as he sat down. "You're officially no longer a guest here, so you can start picking up tea duty."

"Wonderful," Draco muttered, sitting up straight and putting the book aside as Harry passed him his tea. "Just what I always wanted."

Harry resisted the urge to smack him around the back of the head. "Well, do you want me running around doing everything for you?"

Draco scowled half-heartedly. "No," he said. "I'm not a spoilt, rich brat anymore," he added, sounding somewhat petulant and ironically, more like the spoilt brat he'd once been than he'd seemed in ages.

"I'm glad," Harry said honestly, and Draco tried to glare at him but gave up as a smile threatened, hiding it behind his mug of tea.

"You and me both," he murmured, taking a sip of his drink.

Harry smiled and got comfortable, shoving a pillow out of his way. Well, he wouldn't be Draco Malfoy if he weren't difficult some of the time, and at least Draco seemed to save his awkward moments for when he and Harry were alone. He'd stepped up on more than one occasion and always appeared to put the kids first, and that was what was important.

"Thanks for helping with Al earlier, by the way," Harry said, leaning back against the cushions of the sofa. Draco's knees brushed his thighs and Harry fought the urge to shift closer.

"Well I wasn't just going to leave him kicking and screaming," Draco frowned. "It's lucky that he's on the small side. I won't be able to pick him up like that for long, I don't think."

Harry smiled. "He'll be traumatised if he hears you saying that," he joked, and then turned a little more serious. "I mean it though. You just grabbed him; you didn't worry about what I'd say or anything."

"I do though," Draco admitted, and Harry waited to hear him out. "When I went to tuck Scorpius in and Al was still awake, I didn't know what to do."

Harry nodded, understanding. It wasn't hard to empathise with how Draco was feeling, because he felt almost the same about dealing with Scorpius. He still didn't quite know how to proceed concerning him – indeed, when he'd managed to get him into the bath the other day he'd had to keep one eye on the door lest Draco come in and go mental at him for taking over. It was something he knew they had to discuss, even more so now that they had told the boys they were in a relationship.

He took a sip of his tea, thinking hard about what to say and when to say it. Well, he thought. No time like the present.

"I have a proposal," he said slowly, and Draco turned his head to look at him so quickly that it audibly clicked. He reached up to rub at it distractedly.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" he asked worriedly.

Harry ignored the comment. "I propose that we make a deal to stop dithering about stepping on each other's toes with the kids. It just makes it awkward. I know you're in charge as far as decisions go with Scorpius, but I still feel like you'll bite my head off if I do anything for him."

Draco nodded slowly. "Well, he is mine."

"I know that," Harry said, cradling his mug in his hands and relishing the warmth. "I'm just suggesting…some shared responsibility."

Draco didn't reply for a while. He gazed out over the front room, his eyes on the television but not really taking it in if the lack of mistrust in his expression was anything to go by. "So," he said cautiously. "We'll officially pitch in together with this whole being parents thing?"

Harry nodded. "That's the idea. You can say or do anything with regards to the boys – if they're being little shits, don't wait for me to tell them off. If they want you to do something, don't wait to ask permission from me. I'll do the same with Scorpius." He continued, deciding to be honest. "I love how the boys seem to like you, and I know you don't exactly hate them," he admitted. "And I can't deny that I'm getting attached to Scorpius. I just figured that if we agreed, it would be better for us all. We'd work better as a unit."

He inwardly congratulated himself for managing not to say 'as a family' just yet, and fell silent as he waited for Draco to reply.

"But I still get last say over things with Scorpius," he finally said, and Harry felt a thrill of hope run through him.

"Course."

"It would probably be easier considering that we've told them we're together," Draco admitted and then sighed, sitting forwards and rubbing his face. "You know I swore I'd never share him with anyone?"

Harry smiled. "I said the same about my two."

Draco huffed. "And how is that fair? I get two extra children to deal with."

"Oh yeah, I get it so much easier considering I've always had two children to consider," Harry laughed. "Three if you count Teddy."

Draco smiled and quiet fell again. Harry watched him for a moment, letting himself look at Draco without worrying about being caught out. They'd kissed and told the kids they were together, so in Harry's opinion he was allowed to stare as much as he liked.

"So, up for it, then?" Harry asked casually.

Draco looked down at his lap. "If you trust me," he said quietly.

Harry nodded. "There's not many people who could have calmed Al down from a fit like that," he said honestly. "So yeah, I trust you."

Draco looked down at his mug, but Harry didn't miss how pleased he looked. It must be a big deal for him to be trusted like that, Harry supposed. After being treated like dirt for the past god-knows how long, it would probably mean a lot that anyone was willing to give him the time of day. He was just glad that Draco was letting himself be himself now, rather than hiding behind his façade of spite and indifference.

"So, where's the television remote?" Harry asked, looking around. "I'd quite like to watch some crap TV, thanks."

"No idea," Draco said vaguely, already picking up his book. "Of course I'd never dream of hiding it or anything."

"Really," Harry said flatly, rolling his eyes as Draco just hid a smirk behind the pages of his book. Harry drew his wand, give Draco a pointed look even though his eyes were on the book. "_Accio_ remote."

"Damn," Draco drawled as the remote shot out from the top of the bookcase in the corner that housed all the DVD's and magazines. "You and those bloody summoning charms."

"I think my speciality is disarming, actually," Harry replied, sinking down into the sofa and getting comfortable, pointing the remote at the television with satisfaction.

"I'd like to see you try and outsmart a dragon with a disarming spell," Draco said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you'd like to see me get squashed whilst trying," Harry replied, amused.

"I was in two minds about that," Draco said, still not looking up. "I hated that you were getting the attention, but then I figured you'd go down as a hero if you were squashed when fighting a dragon. I'd much rather you have been incapacitated by something stupid, like tripping over Longbottom's toad."

Harry laughed in disbelief. "You really were a little shit back then."

"So were you," Draco retorted. "You were just lucky enough to be Harry Potter as well."

Harry smiled ruefully. "I suppose. I did do some things I wasn't proud of that I shouldn't have got away with."

He looked away from the television to see with a jolt that Draco was staring at him intently, book forgotten. "Yeah," Draco whispered, and something flittered across his face, making him look much younger. "You did."

Harry felt his stomach sink as he realised what Draco was talking about. Fuck – how had he managed to avoid that up until now? It hadn't been mentioned since Ron had made that joke about Harry cutting Draco in half all that time ago, and he'd just pushed it to the back of his mind and ignored it. He swallowed thickly but as he opened his mouth to talk Draco's eyes went wide and he drew in a sharp breath, pressing his hand convulsively to his sternum.

"Fuck, what?" Harry panicked, putting his mug on the floor before turning to Draco, leaning forwards towards him. "What's wrong?"

"It hurts," Draco breathed, hand pressing hard to his own chest and his shoulders hunching over. "Every now and again. When I get upset about it, it twinges."

Harry was horrified. He reached out without thinking, pressing his hand to Draco's. Draco drew in another sharp breath, but it didn't sound pained.

"It's okay," he said shakily. "I think…it doesn't happen very often."

"You sure?" Harry asked, concern and guilt roiling in his stomach. "Christ – have you been to St. Mungo's about it?"

"Snape dealt with it," Draco said shortly, and pulled his hand away, taking Harry's with it. "Stop looking at me like that. I was trying to crucio you at the time, in case you'd forgotten."

"No, I hadn't," Harry said quietly, looking down at his knees. There was a long pause, the atmosphere tense and strained. Harry was mentally cursing himself for being so bloody dense and so fucking stupid. He didn't know what to say – should he be apologising? Begging forgiveness? Saying that it was Draco's fault for trying to use an Unforgivable on him?

"I thought we said we wouldn't judge each other on what had happened in the past?" Draco said quietly, interrupting Harry's troubled thoughts. He looked up hesitantly, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Yeah, but-"

"That means everything," Draco said, and Harry didn't know why but his tone was almost pleading. "I don't want to think about it all. I'm not that person anymore, that person who probably deserved a curse like that. I just want to move on."

Harry nodded shakily. "I would have expected you to be horrible to me about it," he said quietly.

"I might have been, before all this," Draco admitted. "But this will never work if we don't move on from all that."

Harry laughed shortly. "You're smarter than I give you credit for," he said, and felt relief flood through him as gentle fingertips brushed along his jaw, applying pressure to turn his face towards Draco.

"It's looking like I'm smarter than you," Draco whispered, and leant in to kiss Harry again, stealing the breath from his lungs with nothing more than a gentle press of his mouth to Harry's. Harry slipped a hand onto the back of Draco's neck, thinking that he really was a lucky bastard to have gotten away with the things he'd done. But then again, Draco had been awful to him and Harry had let it go, so maybe…

Maybe he should just stop thinking altogether, he thought as Draco drew in a breath through his nose before gently opening his mouth under Harry's. Harry felt a jolt go through him as he responded, hesitantly touching tongues with Draco for the first time, both of them leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. Christ, he'd not kissed like this since he'd first kissed Ginny, all teasing touches that were now on just the wrong side of innocent. It made the nape of his neck prickle and heat pool in his groin, and all he could think about was kissing Draco, their mouths moving together and making him feel giddy, moving faster and holding Draco tighter, pressing forwards-

Draco pulled back, breathing heavily through his mouth and resting his forehead against Harry's. "Sorry," he whispered, eyes screwed shut. "It's a bit much – I don't want to freak out."

Breathing heavily, Harry nodded, understanding but unable to say that he was completely and utterly a hundred per cent happy with slowing things down right at that particular moment. He blew out a breath and let himself calm down enough so that he could think rationally.

"Thank you," Draco whispered, and Harry nodded again, reaching up to gently run his fingers across Draco's cheek. They sat together for a long while, the television a quiet backdrop of noise behind the sounds of their breathing.

"I should probably go to bed," Draco said finally, though he didn't sound convinced and he didn't move away from Harry even a little bit.

"Don't go," Harry breathed in reply. He didn't want Draco to leave and hide away, he wanted him to stay exactly where he was, open for Harry to see and care for. He felt Draco's hand on his shoulder, fingers curling into the material of his shirt and somehow thought he knew that had Draco really wanted to leave, he would have just gone. Even the thought of spending time away from Draco was painful, and Harry realised with a jolt that he was well and truly out of his depth with his feelings. He hadn't felt like this before, never felt that all-encompassing desire to keep someone by your side and never let them go, and he couldn't just send Draco away after talking about Sectumsempra like that-

"Stay with me tonight."

The words were out of his mouth before he'd even really registered the thought, hanging in the space between them. Before Harry could even think about what he'd just gone and said, Draco tensed in his arms and pulled back, his expression no longer content but panicked and almost frightened.

Harry realised instantly what the proposal must have come across like, and he mentally kicked himself, hastily trying to backpedal. "Not for – not like that, I just…shit, sorry, that was a bad idea. I just – I was just thinking about this and thought it'd be nice to stay together because, well – I don't really know, I just like being near you and now that we've told the kids-"

Draco's expression went from frightened to wary to exasperated, and Harry only stopped talking when Draco reached out and put his hand over Harry's mouth, shutting him up in an instant.

"It's lucky you're so bloody noble. I'd have lamped you one had I thought you had any dishonourable intentions in that Gryffindor body of yours," he said flatly, and then looked down, dropping his hand from Harry's mouth. He took a deep breath, and then looked up at Harry. "Promise you'll keep your hands to yourself for now?"

Harry nodded, not entirely certain that he wouldn't say something stupid if he opened his mouth. Draco smiled faintly as if he knew what Harry was thinking.

"Well, I suppose it'll make sense to the kids, won't it?" Draco said, his tone light and not fooling Harry in the slightest. "They'll probably be more confused if we say we're together and then don't share a room."

"I suppose," Harry said, heart fluttering madly. "When Neville moved in with Gin I assume he didn't start off in the guest room."

Draco took a deep breath. "I don't like being on my own," he confessed, lifting his eyes to Harry's. "But you won't get mad if I have to leave, will you? It's a lot for me-"

"I know," Harry said, and Draco nodded, appeased.

"Okay. Now let me finish my book," he said, reaching for the book that had fallen to the floor beside the sofa. He picked it up and then, without looking at Harry, twisted around so he was leaning against the arm of the sofa, stretching his legs out across Harry's knees.

Harry smiled faintly, butterflies flapping around his stomach with a vengeance. He turned his attention back to the television, gently putting a hand on Draco's shin and running it up and down from his ankle to his knee. He stared at the television but his mind was whirling, unable to think about anything other than the possibility of not having to spend the night alone for the first time in four and half years.

It truly felt like one of his deep seated longings had finally been taken care of; the idea of sharing his bed with someone was so appealing it made his chest ache with the desire for it. And it wasn't just some random bloke that he was falling into a hotel bed with – this time it was someone in his house, in his bed for the night. Not only someone who he was starting to really like, but someone who liked his children and seemed to fit in with his family. He and Draco must have both seriously grown up for them to be able to share something like this; Harry was honestly still half expecting something to go wrong every time they took a step forwards, but it seemed they were past that. He was thankful; he really didn't think he could deal with any more teenage angst, not with all the other stuff he currently had to be dealing with. Dealing with the kids, work and life in general didn't seem to leave much room for acting like a seventeen year old idiot.

As he glanced back to Draco, wishing that he could just take him up to bed right now, he realised with a jolt that he couldn't imagine it being anyone else.

He turned his face back towards the television, smiling tiredly. Funny how things worked out sometimes.

* * *

><p>Harry paced along the bottom of his bed again, stopping on the return journey to reach out to straighten the covers, tugging the corners straight and smoothing out the obvious creases. He stood back to observe his handiwork, hands on his hips and biting his bottom lip, and then reached out to rumple them up again. He stood back again and then groaned, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration.<p>

"For fuck's sake," he muttered to himself, glancing at the numbers on his alarm clock before turning back to his bed in despair. Should he make it again, make it look inviting? Or would that send out the wrong signals when he'd agreed to nothing more than sharing a place to sleep?

Abandoning the duvet for now, he turned away from the bed and went to pull his shirt over his head and then halted in place. Should he get undressed before Draco got here? What would be better – to do it before Draco came up or whilst he was in the room?

Harry let his hands fall to his sides, feeling a little forlorn. Getting into bed should not be such a complicated business by any stretch of the imagination. He glanced at the clock again, sighing and lacing his fingers together putting his hands on the back of his head. Draco might not even make it up here yet; he hadn't promised to spend the night with Harry, it had just been a sort of vague plan that he'd said 'okay' to. He could very easily bottle it and stay in his own room for the night.

Harry suspected part of the reason that he was so nervous was that firstly he really, really didn't want to mess things up with Draco. Not only for the boys' sakes; he knew he was rapidly getting in over his head with his feelings towards Draco, and didn't think he'd take it very well if it didn't work out. Secondly, he was woefully inexperienced with relationships, having no prior experience of being with anyone except Ginny. Although he and Draco weren't exactly progressing as per the rule book, so experience probably wouldn't have helped anyway.

Sod it, he thought and sat down on the edge of his bed to pull his socks off, balling them up and throwing them in the general direction of the washing basket. He could only act normally and hope that Draco wouldn't get either freak out of or pissed off at anything he did. Besides, after the day he'd had he was honestly knackered and just wanted to get into bed and fall asleep. He knocked his glasses askew as he pulled his shirt over his head, straightening them and glancing towards the door again. Despite trying to convince himself that Draco might not even turn up, he felt horribly jittery and was filled with the urge to get up and pace about again.

He threw his shirt to join his socks and half-heartedly wished he had a television up here so he could have some noise in the background to distract himself. It was too damn quiet and it was making him even more restless.

A soft knock on his door made him jump a mile; he'd anticipated hearing Draco climbing the stairs but hadn't heard so much as a footstep. Pulse quickening, he cleared his throat, reaching to fiddle with his watch to give his hands something to do.

"Yeah," he called and the door opened; Draco edged in, looking faintly hesitant and very tired. He was still fully dressed and it made Harry very aware of the fact he was not.

"You look knackered," Harry immediately said, before any awkward silences could develop.

Draco nodded and shut the door behind him. He walked over and stopped in the middle of the room, slipping his hands into his pockets. He opened his mouth uncertainly and then shut it again. They both looked up and Harry met Draco's eyes, smiling faintly as Draco looked away almost shyly, reaching up to twist one of his earrings between his fingers.

It calmed Harry to see that Draco was feeling just the same way as he was, and made him determined to stop flailing about like some sort of fourteen year old Hufflepuff. He decided to just man up and get on with it, something he probably should have done a long while ago.

Making his mind up, Harry slipped his watch off his wrist, placing it on the bedside table next to his wand. He stood up and walked around the other side of the bed, turning his back slightly to Draco as he went to take off his jeans. He couldn't help but wonder if Draco was watching him; he knew he'd find it hard not to watch Draco if the roles were reversed.

"You know, it's amazing how much more effort it takes with Teddy here," he said, opting for casual conversation to power through the moment. "Last time he stayed for a week I was dead on my feet by the end of it."

He heard Draco shuffle a little closer. "I can imagine."

"That was his 'I am a grown-up, I shall go to bed when I want' phase," Harry chuckled, still determined not to look around. "It got to the end of the week and I gave up and left him to it. I think he was a little disappointed when I stopped arguing with him and just went to bed."

"How late was he up?" Draco asked.

Harry kicked his jeans off and away, trying to fight the flush he knew was rising in his neck at the fact he was standing there in nothing but his underwear. "Two in the morning was the time I gave up," he said, and out the corner of his eyes saw Draco move to pull his shirt over his head, a swathe of pale skin coming into view in his peripheral vision. "I told him he could do what he wanted but I'd still be waking him up at eight. I don't think he'd thought about that."

"Does he normally have blue hair? Or does it change?"

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed again, pushing back the duvet. "Been blue for about a year and a half," he said with a smile. "His grandma says he's got to turn it back a normal colour for when he goes to Hogwarts."

"And what does Teddy think of that?" Draco asked, sounding amused.

"He says he'll just change it back to blue on the train," Harry said ruefully. "I don't have the energy to argue with either of them so I just nod and go along with it. Doesn't matter to me what colour his hair is, and I'm going to be his emergency contact so I'll probably see him most."

"You are?" Draco asked curiously, and Harry heard the rustle of more clothes being removed and fought the urge to turn look up and stare. Instead he took his glasses off, folding the arms and placing them next to his alarm clock, belatedly realising that he'd left his wand was on the other side of the bed.

"Yeah, Andi says she can't be doing with going to Hogwarts and back every time he gets in trouble," Harry said. "I'm quite looking forwards to it, really. Chuck my wand over, will you?"

He felt the mattress dip and shift behind him and then a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Draco wearing only his boxers, kneeling on the bed with Harry's wand in hand, holding it out towards him.

In that moment it hit him; the fact that Draco was really there with him, willing to spend the night with Harry when they'd only just decided that they could be together. He was so pale and slender and Harry ached with the desire to run his hands over his body, to map out every inch with his fingers. He felt helpless in the face of his own feelings; at that moment, thinking about everything they'd been through together, he felt like Draco was the only person in the world that he would ever want in his bed.

The intensity of the moment abated as Harry made himself move, reaching out to take his wand back. "Cheers," he managed, taking the wand and setting it down with his glasses before pushing the duvet further back and climbing into bed.

Draco followed suit and neither spoke as they clambered under the duvet, pulling and pushing at pillows and stretching out limbs to get comfortable. They didn't touch, but it didn't seem to matter. They settled facing each other, faces a foot apart and both feeling unaccountably shy.

"This doesn't feel scary," Draco whispered after a moment, eyes flickering over Harry's face. "I thought it would."

"No?" Harry whispered back, smiling.

Draco shook his head, eyes still on Harry's. "Just feels comfortable," he said, voice still a whisper. "Must be the mattress."

Harry laughed softly. "Go to sleep, you arse."

Draco reached up to scratch at his ear, yawning. The earring Harry could see glinted briefly in the light and Harry rolled onto his back, reaching for his wand to draw the curtains. Rolling back onto his side, he blinked hard at Draco's blurry form, just visible in the dimness. His eyes were shut and he was already breathing evenly and deeply, the rise and fall of his chest just about discernible.

Harry shut his own eyes, breathing out in a deep sigh and feeling calmer than he'd anticipated he would. He didn't feel nervous or jittery any longer, just sleepy and comfortable and content.

"Potter?"

Harry opened his eyes as Draco whispered his name, but saw that Draco still had his eyes shut, face relaxed and peaceful.

"Yeah?" Harry murmured in reply, shifting his legs under the duvet.

"Thank you," Draco whispered and Harry smiled, shutting his own eyes once more and feeling a bubble of something warm in his chest.

"You're welcome."


	20. Chapter 20

_**AN**: thank you to guizmir for jumping in and translating for me at the last minute._

* * *

><p>Harry woke before the alarm, surfacing slowly into consciousness and feeling warm and incredibly comfortable. The first thing he became aware of in his still-half-asleep state was just how warm it actually was. The second thing he vaguely noticed was the feet that were pressing gently against his shins, and the unmistakable presence of another body in his bed.<p>

He blearily opened his eyes to see the back of a very blond head resting on the pillows in front of him. He smiled and let his eyes drift shut again, immeasurably glad that Draco was still there and hadn't left at some point in the night.

Waking up with someone next to him was honestly brilliant. It was like a gap he hadn't really acknowledged in his life until Draco had arrived had been filled. He'd always just got on with everything by himself, but the thought of not having to do everything alone was undeniably welcome, even if it were Draco Malfoy who had somehow ended up in Harry's life – and bed.

He wondered what they would get up to today. Sorting the house out for first on his to-do list; he was down to his last T-shirt and clean pairs of socks were also becoming a scarcity. Maybe he'd call work as well, just to touch base and make sure they hadn't forgotten about him. Oh, and sort out a bed for Teddy – actually, if Draco were planning on staying with Harry from now on, maybe Teddy could just stay in the spare room like he normally did. Or would it be prudent to give Draco space to retreat to if he wanted? It probably wouldn't go down too well if Harry didn't give him the option to choose.

He wanted to roll over to relieve the dull ache in his side but he didn't want to lose the small bit of contact that he had with Draco, the gentle pressure of his toes against Harry's legs. It was probably an insignificant touch overall, but considering that Harry had acknowledged that he was a loser who was completely starved of attention, it felt wonderfully intimate.

"…with some rain later in the week, possibly across the midlands and stretching up from the south, some pretty heavy summery showers. So, if you're heading to the St Mungo's charity Quidditch tournament at the weekend, have waterproofing charms as a backup plan as there is a twenty per cent chance of some short showers…"

Over the sound of the cheerful weather forecast that burst forth from the radio, Harry heard a muffled groan from next to him. Sitting up, he reached up to turn the radio off and picked up his glasses, slipping them onto his face before looking back at Draco. Amused, he watched Draco blindly grope for a pillow, pulling it over his head.

"Go away," he whined, his voice muffled. "What is it, like six in the morning?"

"Nine, actually," Harry said, turning the radio off and flopping back down onto his pillows, reaching out to tug at the one covering Draco's head.

"Too early," Draco said petulantly, appearing from under the pillow and looking wonderfully ruffled.

"Tough, you're on Potter time now," Harry grinned. "Get up."

"Sod off," Draco grumbled, opening his eyes and blinking blearily at Harry. "I didn't sign up for that."

Harry laughed, propping himself up on his elbow and resting his head on his hand. "Sleep well?" he asked casually, trying not to reveal just how excited and happy he was at waking up to find Draco by his side.

Draco blinked some more and then nodded, looking thoughtful. "Yeah, I did," he said, reaching up to scratch at his eyebrow, yawning widely.

"Good," Harry said, reaching out to run his fingers across Draco's brow, unable to stop himself. Draco didn't flinch or shy away, he just blinked and let Harry gently trace his fingers across his eyebrows and down the bridge of his nose.

"This is stupid," Draco said suddenly, and Harry drew his fingers back with a frown.

"Sorry."

"No, not that," Draco said, shifting his face on the pillow. "That – that was nice," he admitted and Harry smiled briefly, gently touching Draco's forehead again. "I meant this whole thing in general."

"Why is it stupid?" Harry asked, frowning again and feeling a wave of trepidation roll through him. Was Draco changing his mind or thinking about bailing on him? Even after spending a whole night together?

"Stop looking so hurt, I didn't mean it like that," Draco said, sounding a little impatient, and Harry instantly felt relieved and more relaxed. "I just meant - we've been getting on for…what, less than a week? And we're in bed."

"Yeah, with pants on and no touching," Harry pointed out, a grin spreading over his face at Draco's admission that he wasn't actually objecting to them being together. He laid back down on his side so they were face-to-face once again, the same happiness he'd felt earlier rising once again in his chest.

Draco shot him an exasperated look. "We hated each other for years," he said matter-of-factly, though it didn't sound like a genuine protest. It sounded like he was arguing merely to try and prove a point.

"Yeah," Harry shrugged, smiling at Draco's half-hearted objections. "We're quite clearly mental."

Draco still didn't relent, but neither did he make any move to get out of the bed. "I wanted to murder you like a week ago."

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's good to know. Notice that neither of us are taking any notice of these objections?"

Draco smiled at that, and Harry smiled back. He held out a hand and Draco slowly pulled his from under the covers, threading his fingers through Harry's and resting their hands atop the pillows near his face. Before Harry could really appreciate it, it faded into a look of uncertainty.

"There is another objection that we're doing a great job of ignoring," Draco said lightly, picking at a loose thread on the corner of his pillow.

"And what's that?" Harry asked warily, Draco's overly-casual tone instantly putting him on edge.

"The fact that for the past year I've been paid to sleep with people," Draco said bluntly, and Harry winced internally at the harsh words. "Not many blokes would like to get into a relationship with a rentboy."

"Well, you're an ex-rentboy in my eyes," Harry replied, feeling the familiar prickle of jealousy, discomfort and pity as he always did when discussing Draco's so-called 'profession.'

"Still did it," Draco said sullenly, and Harry caught more than a hint of bitterness in his tone. "Doesn't exactly make me catch of the century."

"Well, you didn't do it by choice, did you?" Harry asked, and Draco slowly shook his head. "You didn't sleep with the same person more than once? Didn't have feelings for any of them?"

Draco shook his head again, eyes on Harry's. "Well some of them came back more than once, but I never had feelings for any of them, I never even _knew_ any of them-"

"It's okay," Harry said, cutting him off and gently squeezing Draco's hand. "It's not ideal, but like you said, we can get past it if we don't think about it."

"Can you really do that?" Draco asked, looking worried. "I didn't have you pegged as someone who shares very well."

Harry nodded slowly. "If you were planning on doing it again, I'd have something to say about it," he said carefully. "But I assumed you weren't, so that's fine. It's done, we can't change it, but you can promise me that I won't have to share you in future."

Draco blinked at him and Harry wondered if he'd said too much, if simply telling Draco not to do it again would actually be counter-productive, considering how belligerent Draco could be when the mood took him. He was about to open his mouth and reiterate what he'd said in a slightly less forceful manner when Draco nodded.

"Okay," he said. "I just – I didn't want you to turn around and suddenly have a problem with it. Do you think your friends will have a problem with it?"

He looked worried again, and Harry let go of his hand to run his fingers over Draco's brow once more. "The only ones that know are the ones that will prefer to see me happy rather than kicking up a fuss about it," he said, hoping that he was right. "Though if you do decide to do it again, they won't take kindly to you messing me about."

He bit his lip, again regretting the pressure he'd put on Draco by saying something that could be construed as a threat. Although, he supposed it was better to say it now so that there weren't any misunderstanding further down the line.

"Well, facing the wrath of several Weasleys and Granger is enough incentive for me to stay on your good side," Draco said, and Harry laughed, understanding that the joke was Draco's way of saying that he understood, and that was fine by him. Draco reached up to catch Harry's hand again, threading their fingers together and looking serious.

"I'm probably not in any place to say this…" he said and then looked up, chin tilted almost defiantly. "That works both ways. If you don't share, neither do I."

Harry was lost for words for a moment, a little thrown off that Draco thought Harry wouldn't extend him the same courtesy. "Of course," he said, gripping Draco's fingers tightly. "Goes without saying."

"I don't think we can let anything go without saying," Draco said, and Harry realised he was right. "We end up fighting when we assume. Look, I'm past wanting to be better than everyone else, but if you're serious about all this, I want to be treated as an equal."

Harry didn't reply for a moment. He lifted Draco's hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over his skin before pressing a kiss to it. "You're coming across less Slytherin and more Ravenclaw every day," he said against Draco's knuckles.

Draco blushed, rolling his eyes to try and cover it. "School-house metaphors are so passé," he drawled, and Harry laughed.

"Alright," he grinned. "You're coming across as a right smarty-pants."

"That's better," Draco replied with a small smile of his own. "Considering how much we've changed since school, I think clinging onto houses is a bit redundant."

"Yeah, I suppose. Dumbledore said that he thought they sorted too early anyway," Harry said.

Draco looked thoughtful. "I think it's a stupid system," he said. "I didn't at the time but now it's different. I can't bear the thought of Scorpius being defined for his whole teenage life by just one or two character traits."

Harry nodded. "I know what you mean. I think they've been established so long that people let their houses define them, rather than the other way around. There's no scope for change."

"And plenty of scope for idiotic eleven year olds to think they belong where their father did, just because," Draco sighed.

"Imagine if you'd been sorted anywhere else," Harry said with a small smile. "Your dad would have flipped."

"Imagine what the Weasleys would have said had any of their spawn sorted anywhere but Gryffindor," Draco retorted, and Harry nodded conceding the point but not quite appreciating the tone.

"I wonder where we'd go if we were resorted now," he said thoughtfully. "The same?"

Draco shook his head. "I'd go in Ravenclaw and you'd go in Hufflepuff," he said matter-of-factly, and Harry looked at him indignantly.

"What was that about not being defined by houses?" he asked. "Hufflepuff, really?"

"One hundred percent Hufflepuff," Draco replied, the faintest hint of a smirk ghosting across his features. "What? You asked."

Harry couldn't keep up the indignant glare; it dissolved into a smile and he lifted Draco's hand to his mouth to brush another kiss across his knuckles, smiling even more widely as Draco stretched out his fingers and pressed the tips to Harry's bottom lip. Feeling bold, Harry gently bit down on Draco's fingertips, the gesture light and playful. Draco smiled weakly and pulled his fingers back away from Harry's mouth, curling them around Harry's once more.

"Do you think we could have…been together before, if circumstances had been different?" he asked quietly, and the look on his face was contemplative and maybe a teensy bit hopeful.

"What, if we'd not fallen out the moment we met?" Harry asked pointedly, and then thought hard about it for a moment. "No," he finally said. "I think we needed mental children and a near-miss experience with organised criminals to be able to see eye to eye."

Draco laughed and their eyes met again, and Harry was suddenly struck with just how well they were getting on, as if they'd been friends for years. Draco must have read his mind because his next words were of along a similar vein.

"Do you think it's weird that we actually get along?" he asked. "Maybe we were always expecting to not get along. So we just went into fight mode the moment we saw each other."

"I don't care. That was a lifetime ago," Harry said honestly, and Draco's mouth flickered in a weak smile. It faded quickly, replaced with a tentatively thoughtful look. Harry was about to ask him what he was thinking about, when Draco let go of Harry's hand and reached out to carefully run his hand down Harry's arm, from his shoulder down to his elbow and back again.

He met Harry's eyes for a brief moment and then resumed with the careful touch up and down Harry's arm. Harry shivered but didn't say anything; Draco was still somewhat cautious, as if he were testing out something new and wasn't sure what he was doing. Harry didn't really mind because Draco was voluntarily touching him, his carefully curious gaze making Harry feel warm all over.

Draco's fingers traced over Harry's collarbones and then down across his chest, lingering on the faint oval shaped scar in the middle of his chest. "Dare I ask?"

Harry shook his head. "Not today."

Draco frowned. "Why not?"

"Because I don't really like talking about it," Harry said, rolling onto his back and looking up at the ceiling. He half expected Draco to huff and roll over the other way to be contrary, but Draco didn't. Harry blinked, thinking that he'd again underestimated Draco's maturity, because Draco didn't press it or sulk; he just nodded, breathed out a sigh and continued lightly stroking his fingers up and down Harry's sternum, his wrist a gentle pressure on Harry's ribs.

Harry let his eyes drift shut, relishing the attention and allowing himself a selfish few minutes in which to enjoy it. The touch was gentle and innocent and in that moment Harry thought that he'd enjoy this more than anything sexual in nature.

After a while Draco's palm flattened against Harry's chest, warm and firm. Without opening his eyes, Harry felt Draco shift and then there was a warm body leaning across his, and lips gently pressing against his own.

Harry kissed him back instantly, reaching up to thread his fingers into the hair on the back of Draco's head. His would have wrapped his other arm around Draco's shoulders but it was pressed in-between their bodies, so all he could manage was to stroke his fingers down Draco's chest. It was perfect; Harry could think of nothing better than sharing lazy morning kisses, still tangled in the duvet and filled with nothing but the desire to stay there all day. He still couldn't quite believe that it was happening to him; maybe he was simply dreaming.

It certainly felt real if the fluttering of his pulse and the butterflies in his stomach were anything to go by. Draco drew out the kiss, one long tantalising moment before he pulled back slightly, slowly tilting his chin up until the contact was broken. Harry made a noise of protest and pulled him back down and Draco laughed against his mouth, the sound muffled.

"Stop being an arse," Harry murmured against his lips. He pushed his arm under Draco so he could wrap both of his arms around him, but the moment he did Draco shied away, breaking the kiss.

"Hands to yourself," he whispered, perfectly still and tense, his body still close to Harry's but radiating defensiveness and a hint of fear.

"Sure," Harry replied simply, lowering his hands. He wasn't going to apologise because Draco had been the one to initiate the moment, but of course he would back off if Draco asked. He didn't move, and slowly Draco calmed down. His breathing slowed and his frame relaxed against Harry's, his weight resting across Harry's chest once more, and then he pressed another small kiss to Harry's mouth.

He didn't bother to say thank you but Harry didn't mind. The gentle kiss was enough for him, although it was hard to fight the natural urge to wrap his arms around Draco and hold him tight.

The urge lessened considerably when he heard the thud of footsteps on the stairs outside his room. He jerked his mouth away from Draco's just in time to see the door open; Draco whipped his head around and froze in place as James sauntered in.

"Mum's in the floo," he announced, watching with curious eyes as Draco tried to discreetly slide away from Harry, reaching to pull the duvet up over his back. "She wants to talk to you."

"Cheers mate," Harry said, feeling his own cheeks warming. "I'll be right down."

James nodded and took a step back, eyes still on Harry and Draco and his expression mildly intrigued. Harry couldn't really blame him considering that this was the first time James had ever come across Harry kissing anyone, but that didn't mean he wanted him to stand there and stare.

"Go tell her I'm on the way," he said, and James nodded and obediently turned around and vanished down the stairs, not bothering to shut the door.

Draco groaned and flopped forwards into the pillows, burying his face in them. He muttered something indistinguishable, not bothering to lift his head so Harry could understand him.

"I'll pretend I understood a word of that," Harry said, throwing the duvet back and swinging his legs out of bed. "Yes, you can stay here and languish. I'm going downstairs."

Draco didn't look up as Harry pulled on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt, straightening his glasses and running a hand through his hair. He looked down at Draco, eyes on the pale expanse of shoulder visible above the blankets, a familiar warm feeling in his chest at the sight of Draco in his bed.

He made himself look away and padded over towards the door in his bare feet, smiling to himself as he stepped over Draco's abandoned clothes, liking the image of them on his bedroom floor even though he suspected that he'd be the one having to wash them sooner or later.

"Bring me tea," a muffled voice called out behind him as he left the room, reaching for the bannister.

"Sod off. Come and get your own," he called back, unable to stop from grinning. Even the prospect of talking to Ginny couldn't dampen his spirits at that moment in time because everything seemed to be slotting into place, all of the complications smoothing out in the best possible way.

He padded down to the kitchen, smiling as he saw Al and James crouched down by the fireplace, chattering excitedly to Ginny's amused-looking face. Scorpius was sitting on a chair a little way back, swinging his feet and watching with interest, turning a transformer toy over in his hands.

"Morning," Harry called, and all four faces turned towards him, calling out cheerfully. He walked over and crouched down beside the fireplace, putting a hand on the edge of the brickwork to steady himself as Al lounged over his side, wrapping an arm around Harry's neck in a vague sort of hug.

Harry turned his attention to Ginny. "Everything okay?"

"Just wanted to organise when the boys are coming back," Ginny said. "They said they're happy to stay for a while."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm happy to have them for as long as. When do you want them back?"

"Well, we were planning to go out for the day next Tuesday, after Neville's got his reports done," Ginny said. "So, Sunday or Monday? Sunday maybe, so they can settle before we go."

Harry nodded. That left him with a full six days with the boys which would be great; a decent amount of time to spend with them. "Sounds good."

Ginny smiled. "So, I hear you've got some news for me," she said, eyebrows raised in question. There wasn't any doubt as to what she was referring to considering she'd been chatting to the boys already that morning, and James wasn't exactly known for keeping things to himself.

Harry bit his lip, looking down at the floor and rubbing the back of his neck. "Boys, go play," he finally said. "I'll sort breakfast in a minute."

Al and James both waved enthusiastic goodbyes to Ginny before obediently moving away, taking Scorpius with them. Harry hoped that they would go and play and not go in search of Draco, who had probably gone back to sleep.

He looked up at Ginny and saw she was looking faintly amused. "Go on then," he sighed. "Start with the I-told-you-so's."

Ginny just laughed. "Is it official?" she asked.

Harry nodded, looking down at his knees and feeling faintly warm. "Yeah," he said. "It is."

Ginny's countenance turned slightly more serious. "Do the boys know it's official? What did you tell them?"

"Well, they had a bit of a fight yesterday," Harry admitted. "Scorpius included. They were tired and had a few crossed-wires over what was going on between me and Draco. I don't think Teddy helped."

"He wouldn't," Ginny said with a roll of her eyes. "Go on."

"Well, they asked if me and Draco were a couple," Harry shrugged. "We said yes."

Ginny simply nodded, and Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards her. "As long as you're not messing them about. What are you going to do if it doesn't work out?"

Harry frowned, the gratitude fading remarkably quickly. "Thanks for the faith in me."

Ginny eyed him patiently. "It's not a lack of faith, it's the fact you've only just reacquainted yourself with Malfoy. You're going…a bit fast."

"I know," Harry sighed. "But it was either back off completely and tell the boys nothing was happening, or just go for it."

"And of course you would just go for it," Ginny said with the ghost of a smile.

"I know it's mental," Harry said. "But I like him. He's a pain and sometimes he's downright awkward, but he's…he's great with the kids, and he doesn't get all stupid because of who I am."

"No stars in his eyes over the fact he's sleeping with the great Harry Potter?" Ginny teased.

"Exactly, he doesn't care – hang on, who said I was sleeping with him?" Harry frowned again, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

Ginny looked down then back up. "James said you shared a bed last night," she said quietly, and there was a hint of sadness in her smile. Harry felt his stomach clench. He still couldn't even comprehend how hard it must been for Ginny when he fell out of the closet without any warning. She was long over it and happy with Neville, but still. It must have hurt her to know she couldn't have done anything to get Harry to love her again; merlin knew it had hurt Harry to know that he couldn't love her the way she deserved.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "But we've not slept together."

Ginny looked puzzled. "But you're sharing a room? A bed?"

Harry folded his arms primly across his chest. "None of your business what I do in my bedroom," he said.

Ginny blinked at him, looking as if she were deciding to be offended or not. To Harry's relief, she decided against it and just rolled her eyes again.

"Fine, keep your secrets. Besides, we'll gossip about you all the more if you don't tell us all the details."

"Liar," Harry said flatly. "You'll gossip about me anyway."

Ginny laughed, her expression mischievous. "That we will. Anyway, I'll talk to you later. Give my love to the boys."

"Will do," Harry said, giving her a weary wave. "Bye."

She waved back and then vanished in a twist of flames. Smiling ruefully, Harry climbed to his feet, idly wondering if he and Ginny would actually still be such good friends if Harry hadn't happened to be best mates with her brother. He had barely pointed his wand at the kettle before he heard footsteps just outside and then Draco wandered in, wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms and a T-shirt that he'd obviously pilfered out of Harry's wardrobe.

"Where's the tea?" he yawned, scratching his stomach and revealing a strip of skin to Harry's gaze, one that no longer tormented him but tantalised instead. Harry bit the inside of his lip, wishing he knew when he'd be able to take things further between them. He was fine with waiting, considering he'd already been waiting for years, but it didn't stop him wanting.

"Is that my last clean shirt?" Harry asked, amused despite himself.

Draco shrugged, pulling out a chair and sinking down into it. "It was the last one in the wardrobe, if that's what you're asking. Tea?"

Harry sent him an exasperated look as he summoned two mugs and made a quick pot of tea. He didn't really mind; in fact, he was oddly pleased by the notion of Draco wearing his clothes.

"Can we go and get my stuff today?"

Harry paused, his back to Draco and his hand stilling on the teapot. What with Draco staying with him the night and the morning they'd had so far, he'd all but forgotten about Draco's request.

"Not today," he said. "I've not asked Luna."

"Not asked her at all?" Draco's frown was obvious in his tone. "Can you get around to it?"

Harry sighed, rubbing at his head. "I just have a bad feeling about it," he admitted, though still didn't tell Draco about what had caused him to have such a feeling.

"Why?" Draco asked, perplexed. "You said I was out of danger, right?"

"Yeah, but…" Harry trailed off. "I don't know. Just a feeling."

"A feeling," Draco said flatly. "That's helpful."

Harry poured the tea out and stirred them quickly, passing one to Draco who was looking slightly put out. He took the mug from Harry, cradling it in both hands.

"You said we would," Draco said, and Harry could tell he was trying very hard not to sound accusatory. Harry managed to spare a thought to recognise how remarkable it was for Draco not to be throwing an all-out tantrum, though he had conceded on several occasions just how much Draco had grown up since he'd known him. He should have done, considering they'd had eight years apart.

"I did," Harry sighed, knowing that a promise was a promise. Besides, he couldn't very well keep refusing if he didn't want to tell Draco why he was so hesitant. "How about Friday?"

"This Friday?" Draco asked, eyes narrowed as he took a sip of his tea.

"This Friday," Harry agreed. "I'll double-check with Luna."

Draco's mistrustful look faded slightly. "Promise?"

Harry nodded, although there was still a slight twist of apprehension in his gut that he couldn't pinpoint. "Promise," he replied, meeting Draco's eyes and hoping Draco wouldn't notice his indecision.

"Brilliant," Draco's face broke into a smile, catching Harry-off guard with just how happy he looked. The smile quickly faded and he blinked at Harry uncertainly. "What? Why are you staring at me? Have I got toothpaste on my face?"

Harry shook his head. "I just never expected this," he said honestly. "You to look happy to be here."

Draco tried to hide another smile, biting his lip and lifting his mug to his mouth. "Well," he said, taking a sip. "I'm actually surpassing my own expectations for getting along with people. I didn't know if I'd be any good at it considering all I've had for company lately is a four year old and criminals."

"You're doing fine," Harry grinned, and raised his mug in a toast.

Draco laughed and clinked his mug against Harry's. "So. Where does this relationship lark begin, then?"

"Making space for Teddy in James's room and doing about eight loads of washing," Harry replied promptly. "Thrilling, I know."

Draco pulled a face. "Do I have to?"

Harry swallowed his mouthful of tea and then put his mug down, reaching for Draco and gently slipping his hand onto Draco's waist. He smiled at Draco's look of surprise, as if he wasn't expecting the affection.

"Chin up, it's not that bad," he said.

Draco huffed out a breath and then smiled. "S'pose not."

Harry leant in to kiss him but paused as he heard a giggle from the doorway. He looked over Draco's shoulder to see Al and Scorpius peering around the doorframe.

"Can I help you?" he asked, amused. Draco twisted around to look as well, an eyebrow raised.

"Je te l'avais dit," Scorpius said to Al, looking excited. "Ton papa aime mon papa."

He turned on his heel and vanished, with Al chasing after him and demanding for a translation. Harry felt heat rising in his cheeks; he didn't know much French but he was pretty sure he got the gist of what Scorpius had just said. Draco stared at the empty doorway for a while and then turned around, his own cheeks pink. He cleared his throat.

"You mentioned washing?"

Harry nodded, deciding that Draco had the right idea; ignoring Scorpius's comment was probably the best course of action for now. No need to cause a fuss over one little remark, not when there was the prospect of spending a whole day together as a couple. He'd never admit it out loud but Harry was looking forwards to a day being boring and domesticated, mainly because Draco was there to share it with.

"Indeed I did," he said, and nodded towards Draco's tea with a wan smile. "Drink up. I think you're going to need it."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

"You really weren't joking about having a million loads of washing to do, were you?"

Half-way through mentally vowing never to leave the washing unattended for this long ever again, Harry looked up over the table at Draco as he spoke. He was perched on a chair and steadily munching his way through an entire packet of biscuits that he'd pilfered out of the pantry, idly watching the progress of the washing that was neatly folding itself atop the table, hiding the entire wooden surface under piles of jumbled clothing and neat and tidy stacks of folded washing. Draco hadn't offered to help, though Harry conceded that there wasn't much he could do whilst the washing was magically folding itself.

"Well what with everything that's gone on, washing kind of slipped down the priority list," Harry said, sharp eyes spotting a T-shirt that hadn't come through clean and snatching it out of mid-air before it folded itself. "Shite. James and bloody grass stains."

Draco shrugged, picking up another biscuit. "Vanish them."

Harry frowned. "Not sure how much more some of his clothes can take. Might put a hole in it."

"The great Harry Potter, defeated by grass stains," Draco said, nibbling along the edge of his biscuit. "What an anti-climax."

Harry shot him an exasperated look and then balled up the shirt, tossing it over to him. "You do it," he said as Draco reached out to grab the shirt. "If I cast anything else the folding charm will probably give up on me."

Draco put his biscuit down and picked up his wand, laying the shirt out over his knee. "Can't multitask?" he asked, running his fingers along the dull green mark on James's shirt.

"Not with household charms," Harry shrugged. "Not my forte."

"Too boring and domesticated for you?" Draco said with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe you should pretend that you can save the world from certain doom if you get all your washing done."

Harry shot him an amused look. "I happen to like domesticated these days," he said. "A lot less stressful than saving the world."

Draco laughed at that, a short amused sound that made Harry's stomach flip. "I think I could get used to be domesticated," he said thoughtfully.

"You're not even doing anything!" Harry said incredulously. "You mean you could get used to sitting around and eating biscuits."

Draco pulled a face at him. "I am helping," he said, pointing his wand at James's shirt as if to prove his point. "_Evanesco_. There. Clean and with no holes. You're probably just too heavy handed."

He chucked the shirt back at Harry who caught it reflexively, holding it up and examining it. "Nice one. Thanks."

"See, I'm not completely useless," Draco said offhandedly, picking his biscuit back up and biting it in half. Harry glanced over at him, sensing that the dismissive tone wasn't a true representation of Draco's feelings. He was getting better at picking up on that, though at the moment his judgement was a little off because all he could picture when looking at Draco was how he had looked in Harry's bed, blond head resting against white pillows. A pleasant shiver wriggled down his spine, and he couldn't help but wonder if they'd do it again tonight.

"Never thought you were," he said, turning his own attention back to the basket of damp washing he was sorting by hand and finally responding to Draco. "You've managed to raise Scorpius, after all."

He looked up and saw Draco nod, his expression thoughtful. "You should have seen him when he was born," he said softly, eyes fixed on nothing and thoughts clearly miles away. "He was so tiny. Kept thinking I was going to break him if I picked him up."

Harry smiled. "How much did he weigh?"

Draco blinked and then shrugged, and when he spoke his voice was back to its normal volume. "Don't know. I never even saw the healer who delivered him. Mother had to teach me everything. Well, she probably did everything to start with," he admitted. "I didn't have a clue."

"That's not your fault. You didn't even know he was on the way," Harry frowned. "Still can't get over that."

Draco laughed shortly. "No. Me neither."

Harry paused, movements slowing as he thought about his next question, wondering if it would be a stupid idea to ask. He stilled his hands on the edge of the basket and decided to risk it. "Did you contemplate giving him back?"

Draco's face darkened and his frame tensed. "As if I would," he said, and his tone had a fierce edge to it that Harry had heard before, something defensive and angry.

"I know," Harry interjected, hoping that Draco's response wasn't a precursor to a full blown fit of temper. "I just wouldn't have blamed you; at the beginning it must have been really hard."

Draco eyed him carefully and then seemed to relax a little. He nodded jerkily. "It was. But I never thought about giving him up. I was so fucking angry at her for giving him up in the first place, like how could you just do that? And that's after she'd carried him about for nine months. I bet she didn't even regret it."

"Well she probably did on some level-" Harry began.

Draco snorted derisively. "So why after four years have we heard nothing? Not even an owl on his birthday."

Harry fell silent, not entirely sure what to say. On one hand he couldn't help but acknowledge that it was definitely progress for Draco to be even talking about these things, but he didn't want to antagonise him further by continuing the conversation. It was upsetting for him to hear, so he didn't know just how much so it would be for Draco. It was clear that Scorpius meant everything to him, and to have to realise that Scorpius's mother hadn't wanted him, didn't want him…he guessed Draco still didn't know whether to be relieved or angry.

"I guess that's what made me rethink everything," Draco said suddenly, and Harry looked up at him again, mildly surprised that Draco was the one continuing the conversation. "Their idea of perfect pureblood society meant no bastard children hiding in the wings. Meant they didn't even give him a chance."

Harry nodded. "Doesn't seem fair."

"It's not fair," Draco said. "It's fucked up. So I decided they could shove it and shove their expectations. If being that person meant giving him up…I couldn't do it."

Harry smiled to himself, and managed to refrain from saying something along the lines of 'it's about time.' During the war he'd always thought there'd been a glimmer of hope for Draco; it appeared it had just taken Scorpius's arrival to make him open his eyes and see things differently.

"What would Lucius have said about him, do you think?" he asked, making his hands move again and delving through the basket, partly to distract himself from the fact that this also could be a monumentally bad topic to discuss. "Would he have minded that he was born out of marriage?"

Draco's face fell. He looked down at the table, and Harry watched him swallow, and then shrug awkwardly. "I think he would have been furious with me for a while, and then pretended there was nothing amiss. He would have spoilt Scorpius rotten, either way."

Harry nodded slowly. "I can imagine that."

Silence fell between then but Harry didn't mind. It was enough for him that Draco was slowly opening up and becoming more comfortable with discussing things with Harry. It was good for Draco to have someone to talk to, Harry thought. It really must have been hard, having to get by all alone for so long, and Harry was just glad that Draco was letting him in.

He continued with sorting the washing, but couldn't refrain from stealing glances at Draco every now and again, watching him as he gazed at the moving clothes, lost in thought. It made Harry shiver, feeling some sort of aching anticipation curling in his chest. Now Draco wasn't off limits it had changed the dynamics between them considerably; he no longer had to push away his growing attraction and could instead appreciate it and allow it to grow. It was made even stronger by the fact they'd already kissed, so Harry didn't have to use his imagination to know how Draco kissed, how he tasted, how he felt under Harry's hands -

"Why do you keep looking at me?"

Harry glanced up at the sound of Draco's suspicious voice. He bit back a grin, and shrugged. "Not a crime, is it?"

Draco wrinkled his nose up. "No," he said as if Harry were being completely thick. "I just – I don't get why."

"Because I want to," Harry said simply, and then grinned. "You're my boyfriend. I'm allowed."

He laughed as he ducked a pair of balled up socks that Draco threw his way. "Don't call me that!" Draco insisted, picking up some more socks ready to use as ammunition. "It sounds ridiculous."

Still chuckling, Harry nodded. "Does make us sound like we're eighteen."

"Try fifteen," Draco muttered, and then paused, looking contemplative. "I don't think I've ever been anyone's boyfriend."

Harry grinned slyly. "Not even Pansy Parkinson's?"

The playful mood that had been growing vanished as if a switch had been flipped; Draco's smile disappeared and he turned his face away from Harry, throwing the socks back and the table. His shoulders visibly tensed, his whole frame seeming to shrink back into the chair and away from Harry

Draco shook his head, still refusing to look at Harry. "No," he said flatly. "And don't talk about her."

He looked down at the table again, and the remnants of the happiness in Harry's chest slowly faded along with the last of his smile. The whole room suddenly felt much bigger and emptier; the small distance between him and Draco turning into a divide that he wasn't sure he could bridge.

Harry's friends had been such a huge part in his life, he simply couldn't imagine being without them. Not for the first time since this whole escapade with Draco had started, he spared a thought for Draco's absent friends. As far as he'd been aware Pansy Parkinson had ran away with Theo Nott at the end of the war – hang on, hadn't Draco said that he was supposed to meet Theo Nott when he'd come back from France? How could that be true when Nott had run off abroad with Parkinson?

"Didn't you say…you said you were meant to meet Nott when you came back?"

Draco's face shuttered completely at the question, reverting to the blank look he'd worn when refusing to communicate with Harry. "No," he said indifferently, the lie blatant and obvious in his tone. All Harry could do was watch powerlessly as Draco pushed away from the table, slipping off of his chair and walking over towards the kettle, tapping it with his wand to fill it up with water. "You want tea?"

"Draco-" Harry began helplessly, but Draco cut him off.

"I don't want to talk about them. Least of all how they stabbed me in the back and left me to fend for myself - I wasn't even meant to stay in this fucking country-" he broke off, shaking his head. "Just because you're still on good terms with your friends doesn't mean we all are," he said tightly, reaching out for the pot of teabags with shaking hands, opening it with force that wasn't strictly necessary.

Harry could have kicked himself. One question too many_,_ he thought somewhat bitterly to himself, wishing fiercely that he'd had the foresight to quit whilst he had been ahead. Conversation about Scorpius's mother and Lucius was a big thing for Draco, so why did Harry have to push things and try and find out about Draco's friends, too?

_Because you're Harry and that's what you do_, Harry said into the silence of his own head. The warm feelings in his chest faded a little, replaced with a layer of worry. He didn't fully trust that Draco wouldn't choose to completely fall out with him again over something like this; retreating to the spare room with a slamming of doors and a few choice swear words. God, he hoped not. He was too bloody old to be dealing with drama like this day in and day out. He just wanted Draco to stay calm, to be the man that Harry had seen emerge from under the façade of fear and anger.

"Sorry," he murmured, and Draco sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"S'okay," he said, though his tone was flat and it didn't sound to Harry that it was okay at all. Draco picked moodily at the edge of the worktop, expression still brooding and sullen, closer to his old self than he'd been in a long time. After a long moment, he pushed away from the counter and then padded over to the fridge, pulling it open and looking inside.

"Fuck." He shut the fridge door, now looking frustrated. "No milk."

Harry felt his stomach drop another notch. He breathed out through his nose, trying to tell himself that his abysmal housekeeping at the moment wasn't another bad omen or precursor to doom.

"Sorry. I didn't even think to check," he said, realising his own voice was coming out flat and dull. He looked up, forcing himself to try and act like nothing was amiss. "Black coffee? If you hang on I'll nip out in a bit, I'll just have to check with Gin that I'm okay to leave the boys with you-"

"Don't be thick," Draco interrupted. "Why bother everyone over milk? There's a shop near here isn't there?"

Harry frowned, confusion making his answer sound more like a question than it should have been. "Yeah…?"

Draco tilted his chin up, crossing his arms across his chest. "I'll go."

Harry stared at him for a moment, his mind suddenly blank and unable to process Draco's request. For Draco to leave the house alone – the thought made him panic. All of the washing that had been folding itself stopped and slumped down onto the tabletop, Harry's concentrating having faltered.

"No."

The word was out of his mouth before he realised he'd even thought it. Luckily, it didn't come out as forcefully as it could have done, but Draco still looked unimpressed either way.

"And why not?" he asked, mild annoyance and disbelief etched across his features. "Is it because you're still worried about me being found? You said yourself that they're not after me. You can't keep me locked up here."

Harry sighed, wishing in some remote part of his mind that he could rewind the last five minutes of his life, pushing his glasses out of the way with his fingers and rubbing his eyes. "It's not that-"

"Stop making such a big deal about things," Draco said, still somewhat impatient but his tone not as challenging as Harry knew it could be. "It's fetching some milk, I'm not going to run into trouble fetching milk. You were all up for dragging me outside when you wanted to go to the park."

Harry looked up at him, straightening his glasses and biting his lip. Fuck, what to do? Technically Draco was free from the gang as far as they knew, but Harry still couldn't completely feel relaxed about it. He'd agreed to going out on Friday to fetch Draco's things but that wouldn't be Draco going outside alone, without Harry. Draco did also have a point about the fact Harry had dragged him out to the park, so it wouldn't be fair for Harry to now refuse to let him go out, like he owned Draco or something.

The thought made him freeze, something awful catching in the back of his throat. Oh god, what was he doing? Saying no like that – it was like he thought he was in control of Draco, just like the gang had been-

"You're only going because you're pissed at me asking questions," he finally said flatly, again wishing that he'd had the presence of mind to just keep quiet.

Draco stepped over to him, hesitated, and then put his hand on Harry's shoulder, his wand held loosely in his other hand. "Yes," he admitted. "But I also want tea."

Harry took some strength from the touch, still feeling miserable. He reached up and put his hand over Draco's, feeling a brave spark of hope when Draco didn't pull away. "But-"

Draco shushed him by tapping him on the nose with his wand, making Harry jerk back. "I'm armed, remember?" he said pointedly. "And I assume it's a muggle shop I'm going to? Look, I survived by myself before you came along. I'm not completely useless."

Harry swallowed, avoiding Draco's eyes. He honestly didn't know what to do; his mind flicked back to the people that had attracted his attention in the park, the strange feeling that he couldn't quite shift. Had it been anything to worry about? Should he put his foot down and insist that Draco not go outside and risk a full blown argument? But that would make him no better than the scum who had controlled Draco before, and he couldn't let their relationship be tainted by associations like that-

"Harry."

Draco's voice broke his thoughts, and he looked up at him somewhat unwillingly. As he did, he saw Draco was looking at him more patiently than he'd anticipated.

"Yes, I'm feeling pissed off and awkward," Draco said with some difficulty, and reached out to put his hand on Harry's cheek. The tight knot in his chest eased in response and he blinked at Draco, hoping for more.

"Let me go," Draco continued quietly. "Please. Five minutes to think will do me good."

Harry reached for him, not even caring that he had vowed to keep his hands to himself. He put his hands on Draco's waist and pulled him close, resting his cheek on Draco's chest and shutting his eyes. He expected Draco to go tense but he didn't; instead he breathed out deeply and then slid his hands over Harry's shoulders, the touch comforting and needed.

Harry wished he could trust in his instinct, but everything just felt so jumbled up, both in his brain and in his heart. He breathed in and out deeply, trying to think of some way that he could give Draco what he wanted but still keep him safe –

A thought occurred to him in the same second, an answer coming to him almost effortlessly, as if it had been there all along and had been waiting to be acknowledged. He paused in place, opening his eyes and then lifting his head to look up at Draco. "Have you still got that galleon I gave you?"

Draco frowned. "Yes."

"Take it with you," Harry said determinedly.

Draco stepped back, looking exasperated. "Potter-"

"Look, I'm not trying to be a pain," Harry said, voice low and not inviting any more compromise. "But if anything happens to you I'd never forgive myself. Humour me."

Something odd flickered over Draco's face, and the exasperation faded into something softer, that looked almost like fondness. He reached out and gently touched the side of Harry's face, and then nodded.

"If I take it with me, you'll chill the fuck out?"

Harry shot him an exasperated look, then sighed and looked down at his knees. "Yes," he said, stomach twisting in horrid anticipation. He didn't want Draco to go anywhere, but Draco was right in a way – he was a grown man who had shown that he could take care of both himself and a child, and walking two minutes down the road to the corner shop shouldn't be a big deal, right?

Draco looked at him for a moment longer and then stepped away, forcing Harry to let go of him. Harry watched him turn away and leave the room, presumably to fetch the galleon and tell Scorpius that he was going out. Harry was already regretting this idea; he was growing far too attached to Draco to let anything come between them. Hang on – he wasn't still worried that Draco would leave, was he? No, he tried telling himself, but the voice in his own head sounded uncertain. Well, at the very least he could be sure that Draco would choose to come back because Scorpius was here – unless Draco decided to take Scorpius with him for a walk, and then Harry would definitely consider panicking.

"So, where am I going then?"

Draco walked back into the kitchen, shoes already on and clearly ready to go. Before Harry could even open his mouth or raise an eyebrow in question, Draco held up his hand, the galleon glinting in his fingers. He was alone, which could only mean that he'd left Scorpius playing upstairs with Al and James.

Harry looked at him for what must have been a full ten seconds, torn. He didn't want Draco to go, but if Draco were determined to go, what could he really do?

"Out the front, turn right," he finally said, feeling strangely hollow as he said it, but also like he'd achieved something huge. "Straight along until you see Stanstead avenue. Turn left and you'll see the shop."

Draco nodded. "I assume you've got Muggle money somewhere? Unless you want me to steal it."

Harry shot him a flat look, and then got up and walked over to the dresser, pulling open and drawer and rifling past the various bits of junk that he didn't need but never got around to throwing away. He finally found his wallet, vaguely hoping that there were more than just copper coins in it.

"Here," he said, pulling out a five pound note and passing it to Draco, who took it without question or snide remark. "I take it by the lack of snark you've seen Muggle money before?"

Draco nodded, but didn't elaborate. "I'm not an idiot."

Harry didn't reply, letting his hands fall back to his sides. Draco glanced at him once, looking like he wanted to say something, and then thought better of it. He turned on his heel and left without another word or a goodbye.

Harry held his breath until he heard the front door slam, then let it out in a woosh. His stomach twisted itself up into a knot somewhere beneath his sternum, making the rest of his organs feel displaced and too large. He fought the urge to go after Draco, already jittery and anxious, instead turning back to the dresser and reaching up behind a framed picture of him with Hermione and Ron, feeling for the galleon that he knew was hidden there, the twin to the one Draco had taken with him.

"He'll be fine," Harry muttered as he clenched the galleon in his fist. "He can look after himself. Ellis says he's safe, so he's safe."

The pep talk didn't help. Harry slumped into a chair at the table, pressing his hand to his mouth and honestly feeling a little sick. Fuck worrying about getting along with Draco – he should gave tied him to a bloody chair and not let him leave. What relationship would they have if Draco ended up hurt, or if someone got their hands on him?

But then again, what if Draco did come back absolutely fine? Would he appreciate the fact that Harry had let him go? It could possibly help their relationship if they started building some trust in one another – but as far as Harry was concerned, it wasn't he and Draco that were the problem; it was the bunch of criminals that Draco had gotten involved with that Harry didn't trust.

Oh god, what was he thinking, letting Draco go out by himself? Something bad was going to happen, he just knew it. He moved as if to get up but then pushed himself back; his idea of going out and taking the boys with him quickly died as he realised that by the time he managed to get shoes on them all, Draco would be back.

If he came back, that was.

"He's coming back," Harry said aloud, and turned his attention back to the washing, trying to distract himself. He glanced up at the clock, despairing as he realised Draco hadn't been even gone a minute. He should have anticipated feeling this worried; just look at how he'd worried about Draco after first finding him. Now they were involved, it was a million times worse.

_And a million times better,_ a voice in his head reminded him. He felt his shoulders relax slightly at the notion, a weak smiling hitching the corner of his mouth, though it faded quickly. It was true, though; Harry really did consider his life better now Draco had staggered into it. He had what he'd always wanted; someone to share things with, someone who liked him and his kids, and most importantly someone who let him be himself, rather than being expected to live up to the illusion of Harry Potter.

He wasn't ready to completely admit it yet, and certainly not out loud, but he was rapidly starting to imagine a future with Draco. Not just a couple of months of something great, but years of sticking with each other through thick and thin. He pictured Draco by his side at a Sunday barbeque, sprawled out on the grass, leaning against Harry's side and helping take the mickey out of Ron. He pictured Scorpius playing with Al, James, Teddy and the others in the background, and Draco trusting that he'd be safe and happy without worrying. He pictured them all on holiday somewhere, relaxing on a beach just as they'd done in the park. Hell, he even imagined him and Draco seeing Al and Scorpius off on the Hogwarts express for the very first time, James standing by to make sure they were okay.

His stomach twisted a notch tighter. Glancing up at the clock, he saw that whilst he'd been daydreaming, Draco had been gone roughly nine minutes. Was that long enough to get to the shop and back? He didn't know, he'd never had cause to bloody time a journey there and back.

Fuck. He didn't know if daydreaming about their possible future together had made things better or worse. It was nice to think of those things, but at that moment it was edged with something sharp and bitter, a panic that none of that would materialise if Draco didn't return.

The only thought keeping him calm enough to remain in his chair instead of going after Draco was the thought he'd had about being better than the gang that had treated Draco so badly. By letting Draco do his own thing, he was proving he was different, that he saw Draco as his own man and not just someone to be owned. Draco needed that, Harry realised with another twist to his organs. He needed to be able to make his own choices and mistakes, so maybe Harry letting him go would really be a good thing for them in the long run.

_And if worse comes to worst I'll just go and rescue him again, _Harry thought with only a flicker of humour. He'd happily chase Draco down to the ends of the earth, although the thought of having to tell all his mates – and Ginny – he was off to save Draco again made him mentally cringe. They'd called him an idiot enough as it was.

He heard a thud from upstairs and managed a faint smile. The boys had been playing together all morning without so much of a hint of bickering or falling out, and Harry couldn't help but be relieved that the fight they'd had hadn't been a precursor to more awkward behaviour. It was a miracle that James was coping as well as he was with Scorpius appearing, considering how prickly he'd been with Al and Alice beforehand.

He glanced at the clock again. He'd give it until quarter past and if Draco weren't back by then then he'd go after him. He just hoped that Draco wouldn't be deliberately spiteful and drag his feet; Harry could far too easily imagine Draco deliberately making the journey last as long as possible, just to prove a point. It was just whether Draco would now rather keep Harry happy rather than being obtuse; Harry would certainly like to think it would be the former rather than the latter, but he couldn't be a hundred per cent sure.

Harry picked the galleon back up off the table-top, turning it over and over in his fingers. He wasn't sure that his tangled up organs could take the anticipation for much longer; he was dreading hearing the sound of the alarm, the sound which would mean Draco was in trouble again.

Christ, but he hated waiting. Sitting back and doing nothing wasn't his style in the slightest; even at the age of twenty six he couldn't shake the desire to be doing something, taking action and being decisive, not sitting back on his arse and feeling completely powerless and useless.

Well, that was something he was going to have to get used to that he hadn't anticipated. Being in a relationship would mean that it wouldn't be him doing everything all the time; he would have to share the responsibility. Although, he did concede with some despair that there was a huge difference between sitting back and letting someone help with day to day life, and sitting back and letting your other half wander into a potentially life-threatening situation-

He jumped a mile as he heard a rap on the front door, dropping the galleon in shock. His heart leapt up into his mouth and he didn't even stop to think; pulse drumming audibly in his chest, he pushed away from the table and ran from the room, skidding to a halt at the front door. Another impatient knock followed, and Harry laughed breathlessly and almost hysterically as he fumbled with the locks, relief making him feel completely giddy and uncoordinated.

He yanked the door open and Draco immediately slipped in, milk in one hand and a pack of biscuits in the other. "Stupid bloody door only lets you unlock it," he grumbled, kicking his shoes off and completely oblivious to Harry's frantic mental state. "Maybe – Potter!"

He broke off with an indignant protest as Harry kicked the door shut and then grabbed him in a hug, holding him as tightly as he could. He didn't even care that Draco might object to the rough handling – he just wanted to cling onto him and only let him go when he absolutely had to. God, he'd come back, he'd been outside by himself and come back without a scratch, and thank fuck for that because if he'd not come back then Harry would have seriously lost his mind, not being able to hold him and touch him and share a bed with him-

"Did you really miss me that much?"

Draco didn't sound annoyed; if anything he sounded oddly pleased by Harry's rather over-the-top reaction. At any rate, his arms lifted up to clumsily hug Harry back, the effort somewhat impeded by the fact he was still holding onto the milk and biscuits.

Harry didn't let go. It wasn't lost on him that only a short while ago Draco wouldn't have let Harry do anything like this, and the realisation only made Harry hold him tighter. He felt oddly triumphant, the feeling resting somewhere between his heart and his stomach; Draco had come back and was now letting Harry hold him, which could only mean he was grateful that Harry had let him go, that he'd had time to think and still wanted Harry, wasn't mad at him for what he'd said.

Draco shifted almost imperceptibly and Harry took that as his cue to move. Quite unwilling to go, he let himself hold Draco close for a second longer and then let him go, stepping back and breathing out deeply.

"There," he said finally, reaching out and putting his hands on Draco's chest, the need to touch him in some way still singing in his chest. "Done acting like a sixteen year old girl."

Draco's mouth twitched. "Alright. Man up and make me tea."

Harry smoothed his hands up over Draco's shoulders, still full of dizzying relief, ridiculously glad that Draco had returned safe, and not even caring that Draco had been right. "Is that all I can do? Can't I do something more manly? Rescue you from a dragon or something?"

Draco laughed at that. He twisted around in Harry's arms and put the milk and the pack of biscuits down of the sideboard, turning back to him and carefully slipping a hand onto Harry's waist, the touch light and hesitant. Harry appreciated it nevertheless; Draco touching him voluntarily was still a huge deal as far as Harry was concerned. Resisting the urge to press closer, Harry allowed himself to appreciate the gentle weight resting on his hip.

"I am a dragon, idiot," Draco said quietly, and Harry laughed softly. "And so help me if you make a joke about rescuing me from myself…"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry said in reply, voice low, a shiver going down his spine as Draco's other hand brushed against his side before choosing to settle on Harry's waist, long fingers curling around both his hips.

He couldn't help but smile, and feel a thrill run through him as Draco smiled weakly back, for once not making any comments about the fact they were touching, instead just allowing it to happen. Harry couldn't help but hope that this was a sign of steady improvement rather than a one-off; after sharing his bed with Draco he desperately wanted Draco to continue to be comfortable with him.

Draco looked down, his expression suddenly shy. "Were you really worried?" he asked abruptly, tone oddly hopeful. "Not just being obstinate and thinking you knew better?"

"Being obstinate for the sake of being obstinate is your thing," Harry said, and then paused, deciding he should be truthful considering how much it would have taken for Draco to ask such a question. "Yes, I was worried."

"You know, I always wanted you to worry about me," Draco admitted, eyes still on the floor. "You never did. Not even when I was being mauled by Hippogriffs…"

"That was entirely your own fault," Harry replied firmly, not wanting to argue but totally unwilling to concede that Draco had deserved any sympathy for that particular incident. "And you were a complete arse about it afterwards, hence the lack of sympathy."

"Alright, fair point," Draco said defensively, and then he relaxed again, his expression turning pensive as he leaned back a little, hands still resting on Harry's hips. "I suppose this means I'm okay now? Considering I went out by myself and nothing happened? And nothing happened at the park and I went off without you for a bit."

Harry breathed out deeply, thinking hard. Draco definitely had a point, it was just hard to accept that his instincts had been so off the mark. Maybe it was just that having feelings for Draco had clouded his judgement, and he should trust in Ellis's more pragmatic assessment of the situation.

Letting go of his own instinct was difficult, but probably something that he had to do for the sake of his own sanity and his relationship with Draco. He took another deep breath in and out and then nodded. "Yeah. Pretty much."

Draco frowned. "Pretty much," he repeated flatly, obviously perturbed by Harry's lack of enthusiasm and the long silence that had followed his question.

"It's still early days," Harry said, trying to sound confident and not like he was trying to reassure himself. "Yes, the signs are good. Yes, I'm more relaxed about the situation now you've been out and come back safely, but I don't want to assume and have everything go tits up because I've not been careful enough."

"_We've_ not been careful enough," Draco corrected, a warning edge to his voice. "Not you. This isn't about you protecting me, like I can't look after myself."

"I know," Harry said simply, and then jerked his head towards the stairs. "Going to tell Scorpius you're back?"

Draco almost-smiled. "In a minute," he said, and then without warning or preamble leant in to kiss Harry, the move sudden and unexpected. Harry's breath caught in his chest and his eyes fell shut, reeling in the feel of Draco's mouth against his again. He honestly expected just a few fleeting, chaste kisses before Draco disappeared to check on Scorpius, but Draco clearly had other plans. Harry felt him exhale heavily through his nose and then he opened his mouth slightly, enough to catch Harry's lower lip between his own, pressing forwards slightly so his body was almost touching Harry's. Harry responded by opening his mouth to Draco's, responding to the touches of Draco's tongue with his own and gently running his hands up Draco's back, relishing the feel of shifting muscle under his palms. He stifled a groan in his chest, not wanting to scare Draco off by revealing just how much he wanted him, just how much he wanted this-

Voices from upstairs made Draco draw back, the kisses turning chaste once more and the slowing to a halt as the voiced grew louder and more pronounced. Harry didn't mind as such; kissing Draco was probably his new favourite thing ever and the moment had been undoubtedly nice, but he'd much prefer to do it when they were alone and had time to draw it out, savour the moment. Not to mention that he didn't exactly want to end up aroused whilst standing in the middle of the hallway, with no available escape to anywhere private.

"Scorp! Your dad's back!"

Harry smothered a laugh as Draco pulled back sharply, wrinkling his nose in response to James's shout from the top of the stairs. "Scorp?" he repeated, sounding somewhere between bewildered and appalled.

"It's just a nickname," Harry smiled, kissing Draco's jaw and then stepping back, reaching to pick up the milk and biscuits that had been forgotten in favour of kissing. "No worse than you calling him worm."

Draco made an indignant noise as Harry turned away towards the kitchen, following just behind. "It _is_ different. He's _mangling_ his name."

Harry laughed out loud at that, putting the milk away and the biscuits down on the table and then turning to face Draco. "Don't suppose I can persuade you to let it go?" he asked. "It's a big deal for James to be getting on with them at the minute. If he's bonding with Scorpius and still being nice to Al at the same time I don't want to wreck it."

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You just know I won't kick up a fuss if it'll affect the kids, you sneaky so-and-so."

Harry laughed again, reaching out and swatting Draco's finger out of the way. "I'm not being sneaky, I just explained exactly what I was on about. That's not sneaky."

Draco pulled a face at him. "We'll see," he said, before turning to the doorway as the sounds of footsteps clattered down the stairs and towards them. James was first in as usual, bounding over to Harry and leaning against him.

"Can I have something to eat?"

Harry smiled and ran a hand over James's head, laughing as James scowled and pushed it away, just like his brother was wont to do when Harry ruffled his hair. However, when Harry pulled James up to his side in a brief one-armed hug, James didn't object; he just leaned more heavily against Harry's side, watching Scorpius and Al skip into the room with toys in hand and voices loud. Scorpius immediately made a beeline for Draco, hands in the air and requesting in French to be picked up. Draco obliged without a protest, and Harry watched in amusement as Al hesitated, and then climbed up onto a chair and then the table, kneeling on the table-top next to a pile of washing and leaning on Draco's shoulder as he and Scorpius continued to talk.

Draco shot Harry a bemused look and Harry smiled back, chest fit to burst with pride and affection for them all, resisting the urge to pick James up and squeeze him tight. For the first time in a long time Harry let himself selfishly wish that he could have the boys with him all day every day, without having to consider anyone else but himself.

"You really do love this, don't you?" Draco's voice said, low and amused. Harry glanced over to him, and then nodded with a sheepish smile.

"Yeah," he said with a small shrug, not ashamed to admit it.

Draco's mouth hitched in a small smile. He looked down and then back up again, meeting Harry's eyes. _"Me too,"_ he mouthed, cheeks going slightly pink, before turning his attention back to Al and Scorpius, joining in their conversation with something that made them both pause, eyes wide and excited.

"Dad, I'm still hungry," James said hopefully at his side, and Harry grabbed him in a proper hug, squeezing him tight around his shoulders and making him stumble, laughing. "Get off! Dad!"

"Can't make you anything to eat until you hug me back," Harry announced, making James laugh even more. "I run on love."

"People run on energy which comes from food," James protested through his laughter. "So I can't have enough energy to hug you until I've had something to eat."

"All lies," Harry said dramatically, still not letting go. "Magic and love, that's all you need."

James smiled, finally wrapping his arms around Harry's waist at last and hugging him back. "And food."

"Alright," Harry conceded, giving James one last squeeze before letting him go. "I suppose you're right."

James beamed up at him and Harry smiled back, suddenly feeling extra protective over his eldest son. He always felt an extra push to take care of James and make him happy, considering how Harry had behaved after Al had been born. Al was lucky enough not to remember any of it, but James might just have been old enough to notice that something hadn't been quite right. Harry suspected that James didn't have a clue about how much Harry had let him down in the past, but that didn't stop Harry from trying to make it up to him.

He moved towards the pantry after James, hoping that there was still enough food in there to keep them going for a while. As much as he liked being domesticated with Draco and the boys, the idea of dragging them to the supermarket or around the Diagon food market made him a tad apprehensive. It was bad enough with just the boys and he honestly didn't know if Draco and Scorpius's presence would make it easier or more difficult.

As James delved through the pantry, talking to himself about what he fancied to eat, Harry looked back over his shoulder at Draco. With a jolt in his stomach he saw that Draco's eyes were already on him, gaze more open than he normally allowed it to be and full of some strange expression that made Harry immediately over-aware of his own body, wondering what Draco was scrutinizing. He only caught the expression for the briefest of moments; the instant Draco caught Harry looking he turned away towards Scorpius and Al, cheeks going faintly pink.

Harry smiled to himself, feeling something warm and content purring in his chest. This being a family lark was definitely something worth investing in, he thought as he stole another glance back at Draco and the boys, unable to resist. And now that Draco had been outside and nothing untoward had happened, maybe they could start really looking to the future, instead of being held back and worrying about what might happen.

God, it was such a relief for _him_ to think that Draco was safe, he didn't even know how it must feel for Draco. It was probably a lot to take in, all events considered. He wondered if Draco had really processed the idea yet- actually, considering it had been Draco that had been so determined to go out earlier, maybe he was already more accustomed to the change than Harry was.

Change was turning out pretty well lately, Harry thought, unable to keep the smile at bay any longer. A few more changes wouldn't go amiss either, starting with turning the spare room back into a spare room and officially moving Draco into Harry's bedroom.

Harry's smile turned a little guilty. _One step at a time,_ he told himself firmly, wondering how long he'd manage to keep the thought to himself or if he'd accidentally blurt it out in the middle of a conversation about something else.

Knowing him, it would probably be the latter. Oh well, the last accidental blurting of words had resulted in Draco spending the night in Harry's bed, so maybe a few more wouldn't really be that bad after all.

* * *

><p>"But why can I not go in now, too? I went in with Al before."<p>

Harry looked from Scorpius to Draco and then to Al who was peering around the edge of the bathroom door, quite blatantly eavesdropping. Scorpius was just outside the bathroom, looking up at Draco with curious eyes and fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. For his part, Draco was looking lost and rather uncomfortable.

_Ah, the joys of bath-time_ Harry thought wryly, leaning against the wall and feeling knackered. If he'd had his way he would have put the kids in the bath a lot earlier in the evening, mostly because he was feeling selfish and wanted the boys in bed so he could spend time with Draco. But no, instead they were standing there on the landing with the last of the soft evening sunlight filtering through the windows, dithering about something that really should be relatively easy.

Draco sighed, rubbing his chin with his hand and eying Scorpius contemplatively. "When?" he asked, and Harry winced internally as Scorpius answered.

"When Harry put me in the bath," he said easily. "He said it would be more quick."

Draco didn't even bother to correct Scorpius's English. He just bit his lip and ran his hand over his jaw again, before glancing to Harry and then back again.

"You should probably have a bath by yourself," he said slowly, and Scorpius's face fell.

"But Papa…" he trailed off, looking to Harry for support. Harry stayed quiet; despite what he thought on the matter – that they should just chuck both kids in the bath to save time and prevent sulking this late in the evening – it wasn't just his decision to make.

"You don't have to do everything with Al," Draco said gently to Scorpius. "You have to do some things by yourself."

"I don't mind," Al chipped in helpfully, swinging further around the bathroom doorframe. Harry could see he already wasn't wearing his shirt in preparation for bath time, and was willing to bet that by this point he probably wasn't wearing anything.

Draco breathed out deeply again and then, to Harry's surprise, turned to him with a clear question on his face. "Never had to deal with this," he laughed awkwardly, rubbing his brow. "I don't know – is it weird?"

"Not at all," Harry shrugged. "They're only four. Besides, where else can they play mermen? Doesn't work quite as well in the sofa-room."

Draco's mouth flickered in a weak smile. He nodded, looking thoughtful, and then turned to Scorpius. "Go on then. Get in."

Scorpius's face broke into a smile and he immediately turned around and ran into the bathroom, happily shouting something about grindylows. Al vanished from the doorway, and Harry hastened to step forwards before he pitched himself into the tub headfirst.

"Want me to keep an eye on them?" he asked, and Draco turned to look at him, biting his lip again and still looking distinctly uncertain.

"I-" he said, looking down at his feet. "I've never spoken to Scorpius about…you know. Being appropriate," he said in a rush, the words tumbling over each other in a rush. "I never had to, it was always just me and him-"

Harry understood instantly. "Don't worry about it," he said gently. "Like I said, he's only four."

Draco nodded, but still didn't look sure. He glanced towards the bathroom door again, and then sighed. "I still feel in over my head some days."

Harry nodded, and stepped forwards to gently put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "You do better than you think you do," he said. "Don't be hard on yourself."

Draco nodded and then seemed to regroup, turning towards the bathroom. "Come on then. We can both watch the latest episode of merman versus grindylow."

Harry laughed softly and followed him in, just in time to see Al – already standing in the bath – upend the entire crate of bath toys into the water, tossing it aside onto the floor and delving through, calling excitedly to Scorpius, who was sat on the mat next to the bath and hurriedly tugging his socks off.

"Papa, help!"

He stuck his feet out towards Draco who rolled his eyes but obliged, kneeling down and gripping hold of one of Scorpius's ankles. "You know you can do this yourself," he said pointedly.

"You are more quick," Scorpius said earnestly as he pulled his feet free from his socks and then stood up to divest himself of the rest of his clothing.

"Now I know you're not Scorpius," Draco said mildly, sitting back and leaning on his hands. "Scorpius hates bath time."

Scorpius smiled at him, happy and wide. "I don't like being made clean," he explained, and Harry bit back a laugh. "I like playing."

"You do realise you're still getting washed after you've finished playing?" Draco said.

Scorpius shook his head, leaving his clothes abandoned on the floor next to Al's. "Help me in."

Draco shot Harry a lot that was tempered with amusement and exasperation, and then shifted forwards onto his knees in order to lift Scorpius into the bath.

"Al, sit down mate," Harry said fondly, stepping into the bathroom and putting the toilet seat down so he could sit on it. "Don't want you to slip."

Al obediently sat down with a splash, not even showing that he'd registered that Harry had spoken. Harry snorted with laughter, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. "And there we go into the bath zone," he remarked. "Lost to the land of bubbles until I literally fish him out."

Draco laughed softly and then turned his head to look at Harry, before scooting backwards so he could lean back against Harry's legs. Harry smiled and reached down to touch his shoulder briefly, feeling even happier when Draco turned his head to quickly and unexpectedly kiss Harry's wrist before settling back down.

"He's not used to baths," Draco murmured. Harry looked down at him, watching him watch the boys. He hesitated, and then gently reached down and brushed his fingers against Draco's ear, touching the back of his earring. Draco didn't move away or even seem to tense up, so Harry allowed himself to carefully run his fingertips down the side of his neck. He held his breath as he slid them down Draco's neck and back up again, and then exhaled thankfully as Draco tipped his head minutely to the side, a subtle request for Harry to continue. Chest feeling warm, Harry obliged, turning his attention back to the conversation they'd been having.

"Can he swim?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"No," Draco said. "I want to teach him one day, though."

"We could go one day, all of us," Harry said, his casual tone belying his seriousness about the idea. He already had a well-stocked library of daydreams about him and Draco and the boys, swimming being one of his favourites.

Draco twisted around to look at him, a smile playing around the corner of his mouth. "I forget we can actually do things like that now," he said, turning back to watch the boys as there was a loud splash and an excited shriek from one of them, followed by laughter.

"You can do whatever you want," Harry said. "Within reason," he added, as Draco turned and shot him a grin. "I mean it though – like you said earlier, it's not just me, it's us."

Draco nodded. "Did you honestly think something would happen to me earlier? When I went out?"

Harry paused, fingers still gently stroking up and down Draco's neck. He looked over to the boys but they were happily playing, not paying him and Draco the slightest bit of attention.

"I wasn't sure," he said. "And if I don't feel sure about things, I tend to get a bit… I don't know. I didn't know if I was just worrying about you because…well, that, or if I was genuinely worried about the situation."

"What did your instinct say?" Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. "I didn't know, that was the problem," he explained. "I sometimes think I should just go with my gut, but all other information says otherwise. It's partly the reason I didn't follow through and become an Auror. Everyone trusted in my instincts to be infallible, but they're not. I've got pretty good instincts, but when people start turning to me instead of evidence…I made a few wrong calls and it shook me a bit. Not because I'd got it wrong, but everyone else was so ready to say I was right, without double checking."

Draco nodded slowly. "You're actually an Obliviator now, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Well, the correct term is-"

He was cut short as James edged into the doorway, comic book held in one hand. "Aunt Hermione's in the floo," he said. "She wants to talk to you."

Surprise was the first thing Harry felt; Hermione's floo calls normally came earlier in the morning, as if she simply couldn't wait a whole day to say whatever it was she wanted to. It was much more Ron's style to call late in the evening, normally with a thinly veiled request to come over for a beer. Harry smiled faintly and sat up, the movement making Draco shift too.

"Go," he said simply, shuffling forwards and away from Harry's legs. "I'll keep an eye on the mermen."

Harry nodded with a grateful smile, reaching out to gently brush his fingers across the back of Draco's neck in a silent thank you, biting back a grin as he saw Draco trying to conceal a smile of his own. Climbing to his feet, he unsuccessfully tried to brush away those fluttering feelings in his stomach that made him feel like he was eighteen all over again.

He followed James down the stairs and towards the kitchen, shaking his head in fond exasperation as James leapt down the last three, staggering slightly as he hit the floor at the bottom. Maybe he should reconnect the upstairs floo-port properly, rather than having to traipse up and down the stairs all the time when someone called. That being said, he would be thankful that he'd not done so if the call had come in whilst he'd been sat downstairs.

As they entered the kitchen, James went to the table and pulled out a chair, sitting down and then spreading his comic book out the table which was now thankfully clear of washing. Harry stepped around the edge of the table and smiled as he saw Hermione's face in the flames, waiting patiently.

"Hello stranger," she said warmly as he came and knelt down by the fireplace, casting a quick cushioning charm on the brickwork to protect his knees.

"Hey," he smiled back. "Sorry for the wait, we were watching the mermen."

Hermione's expression went confused. "Right, as much as I like puzzles…"

Harry laughed. "Sorry. We've just put Al and Scorpius in the bath. As usual Al thinks he's a merman."

Hermione smiled fondly, her hand coming into view as she tucked an errant curl of hair behind her ear. "And we means you and Draco?"

Shifting slightly on his knees, Harry nodded. "Yeah. We're getting pretty good at this being domesticated thing."

Hermione smiled, and then her eyes glanced up over Harry shoulder and then back to his face. "Do the boys like him?"

Trying not to smile like a love-struck loon was proving more difficult than Harry had anticipated, although Hermione was probably less likely to take the mickey out of him than some of his other mates, mentioning no names. Still, he wanted to at least retain some composure rather than acting like a complete plank.

"I think so," he said. "Well, there haven't been any tantrums, and they both talk to him and stuff, so I guess it's fine."

"I'm happy for you, you know," Hermione said, sudden and sincere. She glanced to the side at something her end of the floo and then looked back. Harry felt his cheeks warming. "I've always wished you had someone to be with, and I know I'm not about as much as I could be."

Harry wished she were here so he could hold her hand. "You're one of my best friends," he said honestly. "It's just different now it's not the three of us in such a tight-knit group. In fact it's probably healthier that we've got a bit of a wider social group…"

Hermione laughed at that, her eyes twinkling. "You probably have a point," she admitted, and then her expression turned slightly more serious. "Do you think you and Draco are the real deal, then?"

Harry snorted with laughter. "_The real deal?_"

Hermione pulled a face at him. "You know what I mean."

"Dunno," Harry shrugged, feeling a smile playing around his lips. "It's going well."

"I was a little sceptical at first," Hermione admitted. "But in my head I could only imagine him as still being a complete snot-nosed brat."

Harry hastily looked back at James, hoping he hadn't overheard that particular sentence which he would probably choose to repeat at some completely inappropriate time. He did look completely focussed on his comic book, but Harry couldn't be sure.

"He's changed a lot," Harry said, turning back to Hermione. "Having Scorpius has put a lot of things in perspective for him."

Hermione nodded, understanding. "Well, if you're instinct says you're doing the right thing…"

Harry laughed softly, drawn back to the conversation he and Draco were having prior to the floo call. "I suppose," he said with a smile, but didn't elaborate.

Hermione went back to business mode in an instant. "Anyway, I'm not just calling to gossip, I wanted to invite you over to have dinner tomorrow," she said. "You and Draco both."

Harry's eyebrows flew up. "And the three kids?"

Hermione laughed. "I'm mad, I know, but yes."

Harry rubbed his mouth with his hand, thoughtful. His first thought was to say yes; he'd missed the company of his friends and he knew the boys loved seeing Hugo. However, he wasn't sure his new relationship with Draco was up to the test just yet. He imagined Draco being awkward and defensive, worrying about Scorpius when he went off to play. Harry could easily picture Scorpius having a great time exploring the garden at Ron and Hermione's – the slightly overgrown wilderness that it was – but still didn't know if Draco would bring himself to behave for Scorpius's sake.

"I'll have to pass," he finally said, a twinge of regret in his gut. "Don't know if we're up to it yet."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, though her expression was understanding and not upset. "You could just come, you know. If Draco doesn't mind keeping an eye on the boys."

Shaking his head, Harry sighed. "Gin's requested I don't leave the boys with him," he said quietly. "Not without someone else being here."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I assume he's capable of looking after children? If he's got Scorpius?"

Harry sighed again. "I know. But she's turned pretty relaxed about the whole thing considering, so I don't want to rock the broom too much just yet."

It was Hermione's turn to sigh. "Alright," she said. "But you must come and see us soon. Ron misses you. I think he's pining."

Harry laughed. "Tell him to come and visit me, the idiot."

"I will," Hermione said, her smile fond. "Say hello to everyone for me."

"Will do," Harry said with a wave, and then she was gone, the flames disappearing in an instant. Harry pushed himself to his feet, feeling oddly pleased that Hermione had called. There weren't many chances that they got to talk just the two of them anymore, and he found he missed it more than he'd realised.

"Dad."

He turned to see James looking up at him, a hand held out towards him. Harry stepped over immediately, even more pleased when James leant against him and wrapped an arm around his middle.

"You okay?" he asked softly, a hand resting on James's back. He suspected James was tired but not willing to let on; he wasn't usually as forthcoming about wanting hugs.

"We do like Draco," James said, and Harry went still. "Aunt Hermione asked and you didn't say yes."

Harry stayed in place, blinking down at James for a moment and feeling his heart swell with pride and affection. "Well I wasn't sure, so I didn't want to speak for you."

"He's not going to leave, is he?" James asked, and to Harry's surprise his expression turned worried. He gently stroked a hand over James's hair and then stepped back, pulling a chair of his own out, beckoning for James to come and join him. Despite his usual fuss about being too big for such treatment, James obliged and slipped off his chair and onto Harry's knee, leaning back against his chest and not even protesting as Harry wrapped an arm around his middle.

"No," Harry said. "He's staying."

"Good," James said through a wide yawn. "It's better when him and Scorpius are here."

Harry smiled faintly, pushing his glasses back up his nose with his finger. "How so?"

He felt James shrug against him. "Dunno," he said. "But it's like Mum's here," he said, lifting his right hand and holding it out horizontally in front of them. "And then up here because there's Neville," he said, lifting his hand up higher. "And then here because they've got Alice. And then you're here," he said, lifting his left hand to the same level the other had started at. "So it's not balanced very well because you're on your own, but then if Draco and Scorpius stay it is," he explained, lifting his left hand to be at the same level as the right. "And me and Al go on both sides, so it's still balanced."

Harry smiled against James's hair, holding him tight. "Did I ever tell you how clever you are?" he said, and James twisted around to smile at him.

"Mum said to Neville she wished you had someone," he said, and Harry's stomach skipped. "I didn't really get it, but she meant someone like Draco, didn't she?"

"Probably," Harry laughed ruefully.

"I think Al likes Draco more than Neville," James said, swinging his feet back and forth as he leant back against Harry again. "He lets him play with Scorpius, but Neville gets a bit funny when he wants to play with Alice."

Harry smiled again. "Well Alice is just a baby. I don't know if Al knows he has to be gentle with her."

"I like them both," James said, and yawned widely again.

"That's the most sensible, it's good to like everyone," Harry said. "It's not about who likes who more."

James nodded tiredly. "Mmm."

"Come on," Harry said. "How about you read your comic in bed until bedtime?" he suggested. He knew that James wouldn't want to go to bed earlier than he had to, but maybe if he went to read his comic in bed then he'd fall asleep without realising what the time was.

"'Kay," James said, and slid off Harry's knee to collect his comic book before padding towards the stairs. "Still come and tuck me in?"

"Course," Harry smiled, and sat where he was as James left and went up to bed. He allowed himself a moment to collect himself and think, to work out how he was feeling.

Overall, the emotions were positive. It was a little disconcerting to hear James's views on his relationship with Draco, but to actually hear James say he liked Draco was definitely a relief. And to hear that he thought Al liked Draco more than Neville…Harry couldn't help a small guilty smile curving his lips.

Muted thumps from upstairs forced him into action; he got up and went back upstairs to the bathroom, pausing in the doorway to take in the scene before him.

Draco was sat cross legged in the middle of the bathroom floor, with Al sat between his legs and giggling madly as Draco rubbed the towel he was wrapped in over his head. Scorpius was also draped in a towel, lounging over Draco's shoulder with it pulled up over his blond hair.

Harry burst into laughter, and all three figures turned to look at him. "You look like you're being attacked by ghosts," he chuckled, laughing even harder at Draco's bewildered frown. "Muggle ghosts," he amended. "They draw them like sheets with eyes on."

"Thank you for that wonderfully helpful piece of trivia," Draco said with an arched brow.

"Welcome," Harry grinned back. "How did you get them out of the bath?"

"He levitated me," Al called out, and Draco winced.

"In my defence, I was bored and he wouldn't get out," he said, but underneath the bravado Harry caught a sense of unease, as if Harry would be annoyed that Draco had stepped in and took over.

"I got out on myself," Scorpius said proudly. Harry smiled and then dropped to the floor in a similar position to Draco.

"Come here, mate."

It was a bit of a gamble but it paid off; Scorpius stepped over and plonked himself in Harry's lap, already making an effort to dry his hair with the edge of the towel but only having so much success. Harry smiled and took over for him, glancing over to Al and Draco as he did.

Soon enough both boys were dry and clad in pyjamas, clamouring for hugs before bedtime. Harry picked Al up on the second request, smiling as Al wound an arm around his neck, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. It wasn't surprising that both boys settled down without a fuss the moment Harry and Draco put them in bed.

Outside the room, Draco heaved out a sigh and leant against the wall as Harry carefully shut the door.

"What's up?" Harry asked, concerned at Draco's troubled expression.

"I'm worried about Scorpius," Draco admitted, rolling his head so he was facing Harry. "When Al and James go back to Ginny's, I don't know how he'll cope with it."

Harry didn't reply, but he did feel a flicker of unease in his chest. He'd been so caught up in the vision of the five of them being a family together he'd almost forgotten that Al and James would only be here part time.

"Well, we'll both be here for him," he finally said. "When that happens, he'll be number one priority. We'll have to make time to talk to them before it happens, I think, give them some warning."

Draco nodded slowly, and the look of unease faded. "Thank you," he said quietly, and Harry offered him a weak smile, relieved when it was returned.

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, both lost in their thoughts. Harry wanted to reach out and take Draco into his arms, but held himself back for the moment, unsure how Draco would react-

His internal monologue abruptly stopped as Draco sighed loudly again and then pushed himself away from the wall, hesitating for a moment before reaching out for Harry, taking his hands and stepping up close. He paused for a moment and then moved again, leaning in carefully forehead rested against Harry's shoulder, turned slightly to the side so Harry could feel warm breath on the skin of his neck.

Surprised but pleased, Harry pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Draco's face. "And what is this in aid of?" he murmured, threading his fingers through Draco's.

Draco sighed against his skin, making Harry's body tingle. "Well, my first character trait is to be defensive," he said softly. "My second is to be selfish. And now you've dragged me into this relationship lark, I've decided to go with being selfish."

Harry smiled. "What do you want?"

"Attention," Draco mumbled. "See, I'm actually four."

Harry laughed again. "Be as selfish as you want," he whispered. "I've got to check on James and then I'm all yours."

Draco nodded against Harry's shoulder, eyes shut and expression calm. "I want to stay with you again tonight," he admitted. "God, I just want what I want for once – I don't want to get angry about what I want-"

"Hey, it's alright," Harry said softly, slipping a hand onto Draco's neck and making him look at him. "I want you – you know this isn't just about the boys. It's about me and you as well."

Draco finally met his eyes and then after a moment that lasted forever, he nodded. He ran his hands over Harry's shoulders and then leant in to gently kiss him. "Meet you up there?" he asked quietly.

Harry gently kissed him again in reply. "I'll be ten minutes most," he whispered, and felt Draco smile against his lips. They kissed one last time and the Draco stepped back and away, heading to the stairs that led up to Harry's room without looking back.

Harry watched him go, fighting the urge to do a victory dance on the landing. Draco being selfish didn't really bother him when it landed him with exactly what he wanted anyway.

Still smiling, he went to check on James, feeling completely and utterly happy. Not only were his boys content and relaxed with the new family dynamics, but he had a gorgeous blond waiting for him in bed, a scenario he'd hardly dared dream about.

Until now that was, he thought, heart swelling in his ribcage. Yep, with his family happy and a fantastic relationship growing day by day, he couldn't deny that things were certainly looking up.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Friday dawned muggy and hot, with the promise of a thunderstorm hanging in the humid air even in the early hours of the morning. Harry woke up far earlier than he normally did, with Draco pressed against his side despite the heat. His face was against Harry's shoulder and his knees were digging into Harry's thighs, his whole body a strong line of warmth along Harry's left hand side. Draco didn't seem to be the least bit bothered by the temperature; he still had the duvet pulled up to his shoulder as he did every night.

Harry had still found himself slightly surprised and ridiculously pleased every night that he'd gone to bed with Draco by his side. Since that second night they hadn't mentioned the sleeping arrangements, but Draco had followed Harry up the stairs every evening, climbing into bed with him without hesitation and without comment.

Harry had been thrilled with both the fact they were sharing a bed every night and the fact that Draco was becoming less guarded each and every day. He was steadily growing more relaxed, freer with conversation, initiating more and more touches between them. Harry was glad; the dynamics of the relationship meant that Draco had to be the one to come to Harry, and Harry thought it would drive him completely mad if Draco were constantly shying away from any physical contact. It was still only touches of hands, occasional kisses, sitting close together to watch television in the evenings, but it was more than Harry had experienced in a long time and he was infinitely thankful for it.

It was at night that Harry could really tell the difference with Draco. Since his admission that he wanted to be selfish and have Harry to himself as a source of comfort, he hadn't said much more about his feelings, but every night he seemed to unconsciously seek Harry out in his sleep, unable to fully settle if he weren't touching Harry in some small way. Waiting for the gentle press of a hand or foot against his skin that he knew would eventually come made Harry feel like he'd made the right decisions ten times over.

Being a couple was turning out to be startlingly simple, despite their past and the circumstances under which they'd met. They shared a bed, woke up, argued over clothes and bickered about tea. They had breakfast with the kids, then spent the days doing as they liked when they liked, with a few chores and household tasks thrown in when they absolutely had to. They talked more than Harry ever thought they would, and he had been able to pretend everything was perfect.

Until the moment he woke before the dawn had fully broken on Friday morning, hot and uncomfortable and unable to fall back to sleep.

Slowly, carefully, he shifted away from Draco a little, desperate to find a cool patch of bedding on which to soothe his overheated skin. He flipped his pillow over and threw one leg out from beneath the blankets, breathing out deeply and glancing over at Draco.

Predictably, Draco slept on. Harry had been faintly surprised to find that Draco was such a heavy sleeper; he'd anticipated him to be fitful, jerking awake at every sound. As he watched Draco's sleeping face, he heard a deep rumble in the distance and the first pats of rain against the window. The first few were sparse, but soon enough they grew in frequency, tapping against the glass until the individual drops could no longer be distinguished.

Harry was grateful and instantly calmed. The rain seemed to break the tension of the night, even though it was still too warm to be comfortable. He longed for the winter, the coldness that would give him an excuse to wrap himself around Draco and stay close.

Harry sighed and shut his eyes again, listening to the rain and thinking about the day ahead. He'd promised Draco that they'd go fetch his things, and whilst he wanted to do it for Draco's sake, he wasn't happy about going anywhere near the building lest anyone unsavoury be watching.

He'd had three glorious days with Draco by his side, and he didn't want it to end. Not that he really thought going to Knockturn would _end_ anything; he had too much hope in this thing between him and Draco for that. No, it was more that Harry was feeling protective and almost territorial over Draco; for reasons he couldn't bother to analyse he just didn't want him anywhere near his old life in any shape or form.

_It'll be fine, _he told himself as he felt sleep tugging at the corners of his mind. _One last heroic mission to rescue a panda, and then it'll all be done and dusted._

He smiled to himself, rolling on his side and wriggling a little closer to Draco again now he wasn't feeling so stifled. His last heroic mission had turned out pretty well, he reasoned. Hopefully, this one would as well.

* * *

><p>"Dad! Wake up, Luna's here!"<p>

Harry jerked awake at the shout, momentarily disorientated and blinking blearily in the morning light. He didn't have time to focus before a blurry shape clambered up onto the bed, knees digging painfully into his thighs. He groaned in protest, reaching out blindly for his glasses and succeeding only in knocking them to the floor.

"What the-?" he heard Draco mumble groggily. "Christ, what time is it?"

"Don't know," replied the voice that Harry now recognised as Al's. "But Luna's here. She asked me to come and get you."

Harry rolled over to retrieve his glasses, snatching them off the floor and shoving them onto his face. He rolled back to see Al kneeling on the bed between his and Draco's legs, looking very pleased to be there.

"Alright, tell her we're coming," Harry said, reaching up to rub his eyes, pushing his glasses out the way as he did. He wished he'd put his alarm on; being woken by the radio was definitely easier than being woken by Al. "Ten minutes."

"Where's Scorpius?" Draco asked, rubbing his face with one hand and looking too tired to be embarrassed about the fact Al had barged in on them.

"Having cereal with James," Al replied promptly. "It was my job to wake you up."

"Oh," Draco said flatly, dropping his hand away from his face and eyeing Al tiredly. "Thanks for that."

Al obviously didn't understand sarcasm yet because he just smiled brightly at Draco. Harry bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself laughing, fondly reaching out to run a hand over Al's head.

"Go on, scram," he said gently. "We'll be down in a bit."

Al obliged and clambered off the bed with little to no finesse, shooting off down the stairs and singing loudly as he went. Harry heaved out a sigh and looked over at Draco, who hadn't made any move to get up but had his eyes open, watching Harry and looking knackered.

"You know when I said I liked that brat?" he said flatly. "I lied."

Harry shot him an amused look. "You liar. You can't hate him anyway, he's Scorpius's best friend ever in the whole wide world."

Draco reached up to rub at the corners of his eyes. "I never said hate," he replied through a jaw-cracking yawn. "I just find it hard to _like_ him when he wakes me up at stupid times in the morning."

Harry chuckled. "Fair point."

He was about to open his mouth to ask Draco if he'd heard the thunderstorm in the early hours of the morning, but Draco suddenly sat up and pushed the duvet back, showing far more energy than he normally did in the mornings.

"Christ, I almost forgot! Come on Potty, chop chop. Time to go fetch my stuff."

"Do you have to call me that?" Harry asked ruefully, watching as Draco stood up and stretched. Harry's eyes travelled the length of his body, feeling a tendril of want curling through him, starting in his chest and twining all the way down to his groin. He swallowed and rolled onto his side, hoping Draco wouldn't notice his growing arousal. One downside to sharing a bed with Draco Malfoy; Harry hadn't been as sexually frustrated in _years_.

Draco didn't even notice the staring let alone Harry's state of arousal, and Harry remembered the time Draco had said he didn't understand why people found him attractive. Well, at least he wasn't vain; Harry didn't think he'd like Draco as much if he were constantly strutting about acting like the sexiest thing to walk the planet. Over-confidence wasn't a turn on for Harry, but Draco's genuine, almost _innocent_ surprise at Harry's desire for him was.

"Well you banned The Chosen One, Boy who Lived, Boy who Lived Twice, Man Who Died Then Came Back To Life, Golden Boy, Golden Poster Boy, Desirable Number One _and_ The Saviour," Draco's voice said, and it took Harry a moment to remember what he was talking about. "So all I have left is Potty or Scarhead. Don't take that away from me."

He padded over towards the wardrobe, rifling through it with a thoughtful look on his face. Harry watched him, feeling faintly amused.

"How am I supposed to get the kids to stop calling each other names when you keep doing it to me?" he asked pointedly.

Draco turned around, giving him a 'don't be stupid' look. "It's a _nickname_," he said. "A term given with affection. Very different to name calling."

Harry snorted with laughter. "There's a fine line."

Draco pulled a t-shirt off its hanger, grabbed a pair of jeans and then wandered over to the chest of drawers to steal some clean underwear. Harry watched the photo of James and Al wave at Draco and smiled faintly.

"Yeah, you think I liked being called ferret for half a year?" Draco said, pushing the drawer shut with his elbow. "That was _just a nickname_," he said with a glower.

Harry laughed. "Well then, you can obviously empathise with my desire not to be called Potty."

Draco didn't miss a beat. "Alright, Scarhead," he replied, and then walked off towards the bedroom door.

"Arse," Harry called after him, only faintly hearing the shouted reply of "you're an arse," that drifted back up the staircase.

Harry clambered out of bed, the amusement fading slightly as he thought about what they had to do that day. Urgh, Knockturn Alley wasn't a place he wanted to go, although according to Ellis and the Aurors it wasn't as bad a place as it had been in previous years. Even so it wasn't exactly a place anyone liked going, and most people avoided it as they had done for years before.

Collecting some clean clothes and a towel, he padded downstairs to the bathroom, knowing that Draco would already be showering in the en-suite of the spare room. His mind was on the plan for the day, which he had to admit did seem relatively simple. Go to Knockturn via the entrance in Muggle London as not to be recognised on Diagon, nip in to the flat and grab the few things Draco wanted, then go home.

Even though it was hardly a difficult plan, he still didn't want to go. The feeling had intensified a couple of days ago when Draco had casually mentioned the fact he'd not had a proper bed in the flat he used to live in. It had made Harry feel bad for him, and he didn't want to pity Draco any longer. Draco was stronger than Harry had ever given him credit for, and Harry wanted to admire his determination, not remember how helpless and destitute he'd been.

He showered quickly, wanting to be able to get it over and done with as soon as possible. Though rushing was probably a little pointless if Draco were going to take an hour to get showered and dressed. He spent a ridiculous amount of time in the shower and never seemed to be inclined to get out before he'd had at least half an hour relaxing under the hot water. He was just lucky that Harry had a well charmed hot water tank in the house; Harry wouldn't be so accommodating of Draco's habits if it meant there wasn't any hot water for anyone else.

He turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, reaching out for a towel to wrap around his waist, shivering at the drag of material over his prick. He still hadn't entirely managed to shake the arousal that had crept up on him earlier that morning, and as such he still felt on edge and slightly needy.

He did his best to ignore it. He had to go downstairs to say hello to Luna, and get today over with as soon as possible. He hated rushing wanking at the best of times; before Draco had turned his life upside-down he would prefer to wait for a night alone, drawing it out and making an evening of it. That wasn't really possible with Draco in the house – especially not now they were sharing a room. The irony of it was that it was Draco's presence making Harry aroused all the bloody time.

They'd get there, Harry thought to himself, though he wasn't exactly convinced. If trust had been a major issue between the two of them, it was only _just_ bigger than the issue of sex that had been thrown up by their new relationship. Harry had only a modicum of experience. Draco had more experience than he wanted. They both had issues with sex, so were going to have to be incredibly careful with how they progressed.

Harry picked his wand up off the shelf above the sink to dry himself off. He wrinkled his nose, not entirely liking how magical drying made his skin feel but choosing speed over comfort. He pulled his clothes on, trying to banish the thought of Draco stretching by his bed out of his mind.

"Behave," he muttered, making himself a half-hearted promise to himself to have an hour to himself when they got back. Maybe a bath, he thought vaguely as he tugged his shirt over his head and pulled the rest of his clothes on. Maybe he'd hide away in his room and take his chances. Maybe he'd lock himself in the bloody pantry, he didn't really care.

He picked up his glasses and slipped them on, looking in the mirror and giving his hair the usual ten seconds of attention before giving up on it. Waving his wand behind him to put the towels back, he quickly left the bathroom and padded down the stairs, swinging around the bannister and heading to the kitchen.

The boys were all sat around the kitchen table, Al and Scorpius digging into bowls of cereal and James munching happily on toast lathered in strawberry jam. Luna was chatting to James and pouring out cups of tea for the boys, hopefully with one for Harry as well. She was wearing a white summer dress and had a large purple flower in her hair, and looked rather more sedate than she normally did, though the addition of her bright red boots did contrast with the ensemble a little.

"Morning," Harry smiled as he walked in. "You look nice today, Luna."

"Thank you. The dress is because it's very warm, and the flower is for luck," she said, smiling back and waving her wand dreamily, sending a mug of tea floating over to Harry. He took it from mid-air, inhaling deeply and enjoying the familiar sweet smell. "When are you going out?"

Harry took a sip. "As soon as Draco is ready."

"Where are you going?"

Scorpius's curious voice made Harry look around. He smiled down at him, reaching out to sift his fingers through his hair like Draco did. "Just into town for some shopping," he said, not wanting to mention Panda to Scorpius lest he got overexcited. For all Harry knew, their stuff could have been stolen or thrown out by the landlord or Draco's old boss anyway. "We won't be long."

"Can I come with you?"

Harry shook his head. "Not today, mate. We'll be back before you know it, I promise."

Scorpius nodded but didn't look sure. Harry suspected the prospect of being without Draco was an unnerving one for him; they hadn't spent much time apart at all lately. Maybe it would be good for them both to have a little bit of time apart, Harry thought. It wouldn't do Scorpius any good if he couldn't do anything without Draco nearby.

"Tea?" a voice from the doorway said, and Draco wandered in, freshly washed and dressed, scratching at one of his earrings. His hair was still slightly damp and Harry itched to run his hands through it.

Harry rolled his eyes and looked over to Luna. "Just so you know, with Draco 'tea' is code for good morning."

Luna nodded and sent another mug drifting over towards Draco, who took it out of the air looking startled that he'd actually been given tea on request. "I thought it might be."

"I like this," Draco said, sounding impressed and eyeing the mug with satisfaction. "Can she stay?"

"Sorry," Luna said sincerely, reaching up to tuck her wand behind her ear. "Rolf would be ever so upset if I didn't go home. He thinks the world of me, you know, and he's rather partial to tea as well. Maybe Harry could make you tea?"

Draco's mouth twitched, and he looked up at Harry over the rim of his mug, eyebrows raised. "Maybe he could."

Harry shot him a withering glance and Draco bit back a laugh. Harry was ready to retort that Draco could make his own bloody tea when Scorpius clambered off his chair and darted over to Draco, arms up in a plea to be lifted.

"I've got tea," Draco said to him, shaking his head.

"Harry dit que vous sortez," Scorpius said, and Draco paused. Harry automatically held out his hand and Draco passed him the mug of tea, stooping down to lift Scorpius up and giving him a tight hug.

"Only for a bit," he said, setting Scorpius on his hip and frowning as he did. "Christ, you're getting heavy."

"Am not," Scorpius replied automatically, and Harry wondered if it were simply a Malfoy trait to be argumentative. "Pourquoi est-ce que je ne peux pas venir avec toi? Harry dit que je n'ai pas le droit."

"Because it'll be easier if you stay here," Draco said, leaning forwards to rub his nose against Scorpius's, making him giggle. "We won't be long." He let Scorpius slither down his side to the floor, reaching out for his mug of tea again. Scorpius seemed pacified; he climbed back onto his chair next to Al at any rate, digging back into his cereal and listening to Al happily chatting away.

Harry turned back to Luna who was sipping a cup of tea from a green and yellow spotted cup and saucer that Harry was pretty sure wasn't out of his cupboard. "Did you get a thunderstorm in the night where you are?"

Luna shook her head. "It rained, but no thunder. That's interesting, I wonder what caused it. Maybe a high concentration of aeronautical anemones, they can cause thunder if there's enough of them. Their wings create a lot of static charge."

Harry had never heard of any such thing but he didn't mention it. He sensed Draco trying to catch his eye and ignored him. "About two this morning. Absolutely tipped it down."

"Did it?" Draco asked, distracted. "I didn't hear anything."

"The anemones must not like you," Luna said gravely.

"You were fast asleep," Harry added hastily as Draco sent Luna blank look. "Nothing major, only a few rumbles of thunder and some rain."

"Fair enough," Draco shrugged, and drained the last of his tea in what appeared to be record time, drawing his wand in order to send the mug floating over to the sink. He turned to Harry, looking expectant and also a little bit hopeful. "Ready to go?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty evident in his voice as if Harry would change his mind and not let them go.

Harry took a large mouthful of tea and then swallowed, nodding. "When you are," he said with a shrug.

Draco smiled, wide and happy. "Brilliant," he said, and walked over to where Scorpius was sitting, leaning over the back of the chair and hugging him tightly. "See you in a bit, brat."

Scorpius turned his face to kiss Draco on the cheek, whispering something in his ear. Harry didn't hear it so couldn't determine whether it was English or French, but whatever it was made Draco smile.

"Of course," he replied to Scorpius and then straightened up, ruffling Al's hair and making him protest, pushing his hand away. "Bye, alarm-clock," he said pointedly to Al, who grinned at him. "Bye, James."

Harry laughed softly, shaking his head as he drained his tea and set the mug down on the table. "Best behaviour, please," he said as the boys all hurriedly clambered off chairs, dashing over to hug him tightly around his middle.

"Yeah, yeah," James said, pulling back. "We always behave."

Harry bit back a laugh and let go of the boys to turn to Luna. "Okay? We'll be a couple of hours tops."

"That's fine," Luna said, smiling at them both. "Go and have fun."

Harry hadn't considered that the trip could be called anything remotely close to fun, but as Draco caught his eye on his way out of the kitchen, he felt a shiver run through him. Maybe he should be looking at it as time to spend with Draco, just the two of them, rather than thinking of it as a chore.

They left the house, calling out goodbyes as they went. Harry paused to make sure the door was locked behind him and then followed Draco down the steps, breathing in deeply and enjoying the fresh air. It was warm but everything was still wet from the rain the night before, so the day felt fresher than it had done in a while. The sun was already beginning to dry the damp patches on the paving stones beneath their feet, warming the air enough so that they were comfortable without wearing jackets. Without speaking, Harry slipped his hands in his pockets and walked down the path, his shins brushing the overgrown grass and flowers that bordered the walkway. As he did, he spotted a large, dull green frog hurriedly crawling out of the way of his feet, disappearing into the damp undergrowth and out of sight.

"Nice morning," Draco commented behind him, drawing his attention away from the amphibian.

"Yeah, everything feels better now it's rained," Harry said, turning right out of the gate and walking slowly along the pavement, giving Draco time to catch up and walk at his side. It felt slightly odd; before their relationship had been behind closed doors, safe and secure in the house. By taking it out of their comfort zone, it felt like an odd sort of test of their ability to get on. Harry was thankful that the plan was to sneak into Knockturn the back way – he didn't think he could handle the general public knowing his affairs right at this moment. Not to mention the fact Draco had been missing from the country for about seven years and was probably still wanted by the Ministry even if he wasn't wanted by the Hightops gang.

They walked in companionable silence for a while, both content to be left to their own thoughts. It was nice; Harry didn't feel pressured into forcing conversation or panicking about the fact neither had spoken in a while. The only thing he was worried over was whether he should reach out and hold Draco's hand or not.

He didn't; not because he didn't want to, but because there was no point drawing any unnecessary attention to him and Draco. There were a few other people about and Harry carefully noted each and every one in his mind even though no-one so much as looked their way, caught up in their own lives and with no interest in anything else going on around them.

"I hate leaving him," Draco's voice said after a while, breaking Harry's train of thought. "I feel so guilty."

There was no question as to who he was talking about. Even though Harry knew he and the boys were rapidly growing more and more important to Draco with every passing day, his world still revolved around Scorpius.

"Well, you're not exactly abandoning him to go out and get drunk, are you?" Harry pointed out. "You're doing this for him."

Draco bit his lip, looking worried. "He doesn't know that. He's four. All he's going to know is that I went out and left him with some random person, _again-_"

"Hey, Luna is not random," Harry interjected, and then grinned sheepishly as Draco fixed him with an incredulous stare. "Alright, bad choice of words. I just meant that it's not the same. He's in a place that he thinks of as his home, with Al and James. And it's not like he's never met Luna before. You explained to him that you'd come back."

"He used to try and stay awake until I got home," Draco said, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking straight ahead. "Hours and hours."

"He thinks the world of you," Harry said quietly. "Don't beat yourself up. Besides, he'll hardly remember most of it, I'm sure."

"He'll remember some of it," Draco said, shaking his head. "The hospital. I can imagine that being a stand out memory."

"Well, then you just do your damnest to make sure you give him plenty of good memories from now on," Harry said. "That's what I did with James, even though he was definitely too young to remember me acting like a shit."

"What did you do?" Draco asked, sounding curious. "Can't be that bad. You're_ Potter._"

Harry smiled ruefully at Draco's odd way of complimenting him, nodding over the road in an indication that they should cross. "I thought we'd established that I don't exactly have a shining track record?" he said. "I told you that when you were drunk and fell down the stairs."

"No, you told me you probably couldn't cope without drinking," Draco informed him. "Not a lot of information to go on."

Harry slowed his pace as he looked left and right across the road, slipping between two parked cars and crossing over, Draco just behind him and muttering something vehement about the stupidity of motor-vehicles.

"And here's me thinking you wouldn't remember that night," Harry said casually, walking around a parked taxi and stepping back up onto the pavement. "You were pretty drunk."

Draco just shrugged. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

Harry appreciated the blunt question. It made it easier to answer. "After I came out to Gin I decided the best way to deal with it was to get pissed," he said simply. "Amazingly, completely and utterly mullered. For about a year."

"Even _I_ know that's not sensible," Draco replied, sounding cautious. Harry was just glad that he'd not laughed or made a smart-arse comment about. It wasn't one of those things he could joke about, no matter how long ago it had happened.

"James was two, nearly three. There were times I was supposed to pick him up and I didn't. I went out on the piss instead," Harry said matter-of-factly, and inwardly thanked Draco for staying quiet. "Got to the point where Gin wouldn't let me see him or Al. Hermione nearly lamped me one," he laughed, self-depreciating and a little bitter. "I thought I was letting him down because of what I'd done, who I was. Turned down I was only letting him down by acting like a massive twat."

Draco didn't reply, and Harry didn't look his way, didn't want to look him in the eye. He _hated_ thinking about those terrible things he'd done all that time ago, and didn't really know why he was telling Draco so readily.

"I know how that feels," Draco said offhandedly, and Harry understood in a heartbeat why he'd been able to tell him so easily. "You panic about being a terrible parent, but the thing that fucks it up most is your panicking."

Harry laughed softly, nodding. "Exactly."

Neither said anything more as they crossed another road, heading into the heart of the city. There were more and more people about with every step they took, the streets growing busier and more crowded. Harry could no longer keep track of every single person and he had to admit that it made him jittery. They were going to end up walking pretty close to the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley, and there was always the possibility of being spotted by other wizards in the area.

He glanced at Draco, who looked a lot calmer than Harry felt. Maybe he'd gotten good at acting like he wasn't nervous when he was? Or maybe he really believed Harry's assessment that he was free, and wasn't worried at all? By all rights Harry should believe that he was free; nothing had happened that day he'd been out to the shop by himself, and Harry figured that Draco would have been even less likely to run into trouble with Harry by his side.

"Stop looking so nervous," he said, glancing at Harry again and frowning as he saw Harry looking back and forth. "It's all over, right?"

Harry forced himself to stop watching a man across the street. "Yeah," he said, turning his attention back to Draco. Draco shot him a suspicious look.

"Then why are you acting weird?"

"I'm just keeping an eye out," he said honestly. "People could spot us. We're not exactly inconspicuous."

"Suppose not," Draco conceded. "Imagine that on the papers. Chosen Scarhead and Runaway Malfoy seen not trying to kill each other."

Harry shot him an amused look. "I'm trying to work out if you'd be horrified or if you'd lap up the attention."

Draco shot him a glare but it faded quickly. "So am I," he sighed, and Harry laughed, loud and bright. Draco just shot him a flat look, but there was a smile playing around the corners of his mouth so Harry didn't take his disapproval too seriously.

They walked for another half an hour, sometimes talking but mostly just enjoying each other's company. Despite his resolution to get it over and done with as soon as possible, Harry didn't rush. One of the drawbacks of being a wizard was that he was used to simply Apparating most places, so walking such a distance wasn't something he frequently did. He was a little surprised that Draco didn't complain, though he attributed that to Draco's determination to get his stuff back. They had discussed Apparating to the flat but had decided it was best to use as little magic as possible so they would be harder to trace if anyone later came looking to follow their footsteps. Besides, if they just appeared without knowing what or who was already around, then they ran the risk of ending up being seen – something Harry was keen to avoid.

"Do you know where we are? Where we're going?" he asked Draco, who nodded.

"Yes. Over there and then left, and through the boarded up shop," he said, eyes darting about in badly concealed anticipation. "Come on."

Draco seemed to take control after that, walking slightly faster, eyes fixed on his destination. Harry let him; he followed Draco at his side, still unconsciously looking around to check they weren't being followed or watched. Before he knew it, they were across the street and advancing on the old boarded up shop that Draco had mentioned minutes before. The muggles around them barely seemed to notice it; as with the Leaky Cauldron, their eyes seemed to slide from the buildings on either side without registering what was in the centre.

"Looks inviting," Harry commented dryly. The boarded up windows were blackened with scorch marks and scratches, the brickwork around them chipped and cracked. The only door was in just as sorry a state, looking as though it would fall from its hinges should anyone even touch it.

"Well it's not exactly meant to invite, is it?" Draco replied. "I don't think many people know it's here."

"Is it a registered entrance?" Harry asked with suspicion as Draco walked up to the battered black door, hand extended.

"I don't know, do I?" he said impatiently. "Probably."

Before Harry could reply Draco pushed the door open and walked inside. Harry didn't hesitate to follow, though conceding that he probably should be slightly warier about going in anywhere that clearly looked so uninviting and downright dangerous.

The door snapped shut behind him, plunging them into darkness. He instinctively froze, unable to see his own hand in front of his face in the pitch-black. He swore, body tense.

"Fuck - Draco, where are you?"

His voice echoed against what sounded like stone. He reached out blindly and then felt familiar fingers curl around his arm. He grasped for Draco's hand, relieved.

"Sorry, should have warned you," Draco said, tugging on Harry's hand. "Come on, it only lasts a few steps."

Harry allowed himself to be pulled forwards, feet stumbling on what felt like cobblestones beneath his feet. The darkness was everywhere, invading his eyes and ears and mouth, feeling as though it were suffocating him. It made him tense and jumpy, and he knew that if he had to endure much more his temper would surface, exacerbated by a situation that he had no control over.

Thankfully, Draco had been telling the truth. Four steps and suddenly the darkness lifted, revealing the worn dirty face of Knockturn Alley. It was dingy and dim, as if the sun couldn't quite reach the old, tired surfaces. Harry's relief at being able to see once again didn't last long and he shivered as he looked around, feeling cold for the first time in days. Something barked harshly further along the Alley, hidden somewhere in the shadows.

"Not far," Draco whispered, and Harry didn't know if it was the situation or the lack of light, but Draco looked paler than he had outside in Muggle London. He nodded, not wanting to raise his voice, slipping his free hand into his pocket to curl his fingers around his wand.

Draco didn't let go of his other hand as they walked along the alley. It was eerily empty, but Harry didn't know if that was normal or not. He'd never been this far down Knockturn, and frankly he wasn't going to ever repeat the experience if he could get away with it. Their footsteps echoed off the stones around them, and Harry felt Draco tighten his hold on Harry's fingers.

They passed a few dilapidated buildings with shadowy doors and broken windows, and then Draco stopped at the first of the larger buildings, one that rose high and stretched quite a way along the Alley. It reminded Harry of an old factory, though he didn't have the faintest idea of what its original use could have been. The roof was missing many of its tiles and the several windows that punctuated the building's side were dirty and cobwebbed.

"Here," he whispered, and pulled Harry towards a small door with peeling paint that may once have been blue. A shout echoed down the alley and they both whipped around to look, hearts quickening.

They didn't see anyone but Draco didn't hang out to find out if anyone would appear. He tugged Harry through the door, shutting it behind them and plunging the small lobby into shade, the only light provided by a few dirty windows higher up the building. Beside the foot of the stairs was an old broken broomstick that Harry recognised as a Cleansweep 11. Harry stared at it for a moment, feeling strange as he realised that he'd never considered the people who lived on Knockturn as actual _people_ with lives of their own.

"Yes, criminals and vagrants like Qudditch, too," Draco whispered, and Harry started and looked away. "Come on."

Draco started up the stairs, hands tucked in his pockets and not reaching out to touch the bannister that accompanied the steps, twisting their way up in an uneven corkscrew, right to the top of the building. Harry felt a little sick; this place was terrible for anyone to live and he couldn't bear the thought of Draco and Scorpius being here for any period of time. It was cold and damp and dirty, and he was amazed that they'd both been in such good states when he'd found them. If he'd seen this place _before_ he met them he'd have anticipated them both to be seriously ill from living here-

Draco's pace slowed and he came to a halt at a door on the second floor up. It looked like every other door they had passed; plain brown wood with a few scratch marks and scuffs adorning its surface.

"This is it," Draco said somewhat nervously, drawing his wand.

"Get a move on," Harry said, impatient to get out of there. "This place gives me the creeps."

Draco shot him an incredulous look. "You've been here two minutes!"

Harry glared back. "Are we going to stand here and argue? We can argue when we're back home."

Draco seemed to see some merit in Harry's words because he simply grunted in reply and turned to the door, pressing his hand to it and tapping the tarnished brass door handle with his wand. Harry recognised the spell as the same one he used on his own front door and was pleased to note that Draco had gone to some serious lengths to make the place secure.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and then followed Draco into the flat.

His eyes went wide, and his stomach swooped in relief. The flat was small and poky, but it looked nothing like the stairwell or the rest of the building that he'd seen. It was clean and tidy, with two low beds against the walls on either side of the room and a small kitchenette at the far end. On one of the low beds was a packet of felt-pens and some paper, accompanied by a few soft toys. Above the other bed there was a rickety shelf with a few books stacked neatly on top, and underneath was a drawing of two stick men in a green field covered in flowers. Another picture of something that could have been a dragon was taped to the single cupboard in the kitchenette. There was a twisted metal coat-stand at the foot of one of the beds, and Harry recognised a green and silver scarf peeping out from beneath a thick wool coat.

Harry felt his throat clench as he looked around. Draco had obviously made the best with what he had, and it about broke his heart to see. Collecting himself, he stepped forwards and shut the door behind him, not wanting to draw attention to the fact they were there if anyone else came up or down the stairwell. Standing still and feeling slightly awkward – considering he was in what had been Draco's _home_ – he watched as Draco walked over to the beds, stooping down to grab a small stuffed toy, holding it up triumphantly.

"Ran away my arse," he beamed, and kissed the panda on its plastic nose. "Brilliant."

Harry smiled weakly. "Alright, can we go?"

Draco frowned at him, lowering the panda. "What's got your wand in a knot? Please don't tell me you're scared. You're Harry Potter. I'm supposed to be the one that's scared."

"Just, hurry up, yeah?" Harry pleaded, ignoring the jibe.

Draco shot him an odd look then bent down to peer under the bed that Harry presumed had been his. He reached under and pulled out a long, shallow cardboard box that Harry saw was full of neatly folded clothes. Draco shoved it towards Harry's feet and placed the panda in the top of the box before straightening up. He paused, and reached out to take the scribbled picture off the wall.

"Me and Scorpius on holiday, apparently," he said, and held it out to Harry. "Not that he really knows what a holiday is."

Harry took it from him, looking down at it before watching Draco walk the short distance to the kitchenette, taking the picture off of the cupboard as well.

"Do you have a bathroom?" Harry asked, looking around.

Draco pointed towards the door that Harry had first thought must have been a cupboard. "Toilet and sink."

Ah. That would explain Draco's new obsession with hot showers then, he thought with a wince, glad that he'd not made any jokes or comments about Draco stealing the hot water. He glanced up to see Draco on his knees in the kitchen, reaching behind the old gas cooker.

"Are you planning on taking the cooker?" Harry asked, hiding his confusion in a hint of sarcasm. His stomach felt tied up in a knot; this small flat was evidence of Draco's terrible luck and choices and Harry hated to see it. All Draco and Scorpius had had in the world was the things in the cardboard box at Harry's feet and each other, a pretty humble state of affairs for a _Malfoy._

"I hid some money," Draco explained, panting with the exertion of stretching. "Not a very accessible place, but I couldn't exactly go to Gringotts."

He turned his face towards Harry as he tried to twist his shoulder to reach further, but the moment he did he froze in place, eyes going wide and face going pale. The little colour he had in his cheeks drained away, highlighting the look of fear now shaping his features.

"What?" Harry asked, thinking that Draco had managed to get his bloody hand stuck behind the cooker. Shit, he wasn't great at first-aid charms, if the prat had hurt himself seriously-

"Fuck," Draco managed, staring at something just behind Harry's shoulder. He withdrew his arm from behind the cooker, scrambling to his feet. "Fuck!"

Harry span around and the bottom dropped out of his stomach as he saw what had scared Draco; the doorframe was glowing with a soft red light that was pulsing ominously. Harry recognised it instantly as the red light that came from triggered surveillance wards.

"Shit! Draco!"

Panic hit him with full force at the same moment he heard a distant _crack_ down in the Alley, just outside the building. He stooped to grab the box, reaching a hand out for Draco as two more _cracks_ resonated through the air, signalling the arrival of more people close by.

Draco abandoned the money and half-ran, half-staggered the distance to Harry, just as a jet of red light hit the small window, cracking the glass with a sound like a snapping broom. His whole body running on adrenaline, Harry seized Draco by the wrist and dragged him close.

"Can you apparate in here?"

Draco shook his head, looking terrified, and Harry swore and pointed his wand at the door, causing it to open with a crash. Another jet of red light hit the window and the glass shattered, falling into the room and across the bed that used to belong to Scorpius. Without even stopping to think, Harry shoved Draco out of the room and then seized hold of him again, crushing the box of belongings between them.

He registered voices on the stairwell and the fright in Draco's eyes a fraction of a second before he twisted around, dragging them both into the crushing pressure of apparition and away.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Harry's first thought upon landing awkwardly on the top step of his house, slamming his back painfully against the door, was that he'd be in yet another shed-load of trouble for Apparating in a Muggle area if they'd been spotted. The inane thought had barely registered when it was followed by more sensible and frantic ones about getting the both of them inside _as fast as fucking possible_.

He twisted around, reaching for the spot charmed to recognise his touch, vaguely registering Draco's panicked litany of "hurry the fuck up, for god's sake Potter, hurry the fuck up," at his side. It only took a matter of seconds but it felt like forever before the door opened, the both of them stumbling inside.

Draco slammed the door and Harry turned to lock it twice over, heart pounding so hard it felt like it was about to break his ribs. He realised he still had the box of Draco's possessions clutched to his chest and dropped it, sending clothes and the toy panda tumbling over the floor.

"How the fuck did they know we were there?" Draco asked faintly, leaning back on the door with his fingers threaded into his hair, clutching tightly at the blond strands. "How did they know?"

"I don't know - just calm down," Harry replied, his voice getting louder to match Draco's increasing volume, the same questions running through his mind. Fuck, how stupid he'd been to agree to going back to that stupid place, and now look what had happened-

"You said it was safe!" Draco shouted at him, eyes wide with fear.

"I did not!" Harry shouted back, adrenaline and panic overriding his common sense which was trying to tell him not to shout back at Draco. "I _told_ you I had a bad feeling-"

"You're not a bloody Seer!" Draco yelled, rapidly losing grip on his self-control. There was something wild and lost in his face, and Harry wouldn't have been surprised if he burst into tears. "For fuck's sake, how did they know? What do they want from me? What do they want-?"

Harry stepped forwards and grabbed him, his hands on Draco's head over his ears, holding him in place. "Draco!" he shouted over him, even as Draco cried out and tried to jerk away. "Draco, listen to me - you're safe now, we're home."

The words seemed to penetrate though Draco's panic; he stopped trying to twist away and let go of his hair, groping blindly along Harry's arms and fisting the hems of his sleeves in a tight twisted grip. His whole body was shaking, his breaths coming short and sharp in his chest.

"What do they want from me?" he croaked again, body slumping, all the fight gone out of him. "Why are they still following me? I thought – I went to the shop and nothing happened-"

Harry brought their faces close together, feeling lost and desperate. He didn't _know_ the answers, didn't know why someone had set a surveillance charm on Draco's flat. It made no sense, why would they risk coming after him? Shit, did this have anything to do with the people that he'd seen in the park? But then why hadn't anything happened when Draco had been outside by himself? It didn't make any sense-

He pushed the thoughts away, trying to focus on keeping both Draco and himself calm. "Just breathe," Harry whispered roughly, eyes on Draco's closed ones. "Look at me, you're fine."

"Harry? What's happened? Why are you shouting?"

He turned his head to look around at the concerned voice coming from the doorway, not letting go of Draco. He'd fallen quiet but was shaking from head to toe, clutching Harry's sleeves so tightly his knuckles were white.

Luna was standing there, looking uncharacteristically concerned, a frown on her normally calm face. Harry opened his mouth helplessly, about to tell her what had happened when James appeared at Luna's side, looking apprehensive.

"Dad?"

"It's alright," Harry said, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself down lest he upset the kids. It was difficult; he was still full of adrenaline and his mind was racing with a thousand unanswered questions. His mind immediately went to Ellis – he needed to see him and explain what had happened, to see if Ellis knew anything more about the hightops ring which would explain why they wouldn't just leave Draco alone.

Harry's attention was drawn back to James as he stepped forwards into the hallway, looking about uncertainly. He looked at Harry and Draco and then at the clothes scattered all over the floor, and then walked over and crouched down by Harry's feet. He straightened up with the toy panda in his hand.

"Who's is this?"

Harry opened his mouth to try and explain, but someone beat him to it, a voice crying out from the kitchen doorway.

"Panda! C'est le mien!"

Scorpius ran over to snatch the toy from James, but James turned away with it held in his hands, looking up to Harry for confirmation.

"C'est le mien - James, he's mine," Scorpius pleaded, sounding upset. "He is mine from home, Papa boughted him for me."

James handed over the panda without another objection and Harry managed to feel a flash of gratitude and pride towards his eldest son. Scorpius held the toy protectively to his chest, but did allow James to reach out and stroke it. He turned his face towards Draco, looking worried. "Pourquoi es-tu triste?" he asked, his voice small. "Regarde, Panda est revenu."

Draco let out a choked sound that was almost a sob, letting go of Harry's sleeves. Wordlessly, he sank to his knees and Scorpius immediately ran over, clambering onto his knee and hugging him tightly around his neck. There came a thud from the doorway and a third small figure appeared, a look of apprehension on his face to match his brother's.

"Why were you shouting?"

Harry resisted the urge to sink to his knees and hug Al as Draco was hugging Scorpius. He held out his hand instead, and both James and Al immediately reached for it, holding tightly onto his fingers and for once not arguing about the other being in the way. He wanted to just gather all of them in his arms and hold onto them forever but he couldn't, he had to go and find some answers to the questions whirling around his head.

"Harry?"

Harry turned to Luna. "We went back to Draco's flat to get his stuff," he explained agitatedly, still feeling shaky. "Someone had put a surveillance charm on the door, they knew they minute we got there – Luna, I need to go talk to Ellis. He said that they wouldn't follow him and I thought he was right, no-one followed him the other day when he went out-"

Luna reached out and a put a gentle hand on his arm. "Just go. I can stay as long as you need."

Harry didn't hesitate. He knelt down and hugged Al and James tightly, an arm around each of their waists. "I have to go to see someone at work," he whispered to James. "Will you stay here and look after everyone for me?"

James nodded against his cheek. "Look after Draco?" he whispered back, and Harry felt his heart clench.

"Yes please," he murmured. "Ask Luna to make him tea. And look after Al, too."

"You'll come back soon, right?" James asked and Harry nodded and kissed his temple.

"I'll be right back," he promised, turning to kiss Al on the side of his head before climbing to his feet and striding through to the kitchen. He moved as if on autopilot, trusting in Luna and his array of defensive charms to keep everyone at home safe if anything were to happen. He just had to go and tell Ellis what had happened – maybe even tell Kingsley what had happened. It didn't make sense; Ellis had said the gang had no interest in Draco, so why the need for the surveillance charm?

He was through the floo and climbing out of the grate in the ministry before he registered where he was. He didn't stop to think about signing in or avoiding getting in trouble, he just made his way to the department, striding down the corridors and dodging around people, knocking into a few in his haste.

The trip in the lift was torture. He squished in behind a witch that worked in Ministry accounts, avoiding her curious gaze and tapping his foot anxiously. His mind was still racing and he couldn't find any order to his thoughts; he just kept thinking of the red light around the door, the couple by the pond, the breaking window, the cracks of apparation and Draco's terrified face.

This was supposed to be _over_. He felt a lump in his throat and he tried to swallow past it, unable to help but think how unfair this all was. He'd had a complicated enough life already. It couldn't just all be taken away from him now, not as soon as he'd finally got everything where he felt it was supposed to be.

The moment the lift ground to a halt he pushed past the woman, calling a half-hearted apology over his shoulder but unable to stop. Walking so fast he was nearly jogging, he strode into the Muggle Relations and Incidents Department and felt his heart jump into his throat as he immediately spotted Ellis standing outside his office, talking to Adam Campbell and looking frustrated.

"Ellis!" Harry called, not caring that several heads turned his way in response to his panicked tones. Ellis looked up, his frustrated expression flicking to bewildered and then back to exasperated again.

"Go away," he called to Harry, now completely ignoring Adam. Adam didn't seem to mind; his attention was also firmly on Harry, eyes wide. "You're suspended, idiot."

"I need a word," Harry said, slowing down a little as he walked past both Ellis and Adam and into the office beyond, calling back over his shoulder. "Now."

He must have sounded serious, or maybe Ellis was fed up of working with Adam. Either way, Ellis immediately followed him into the office, waving his wand to slam the door in Adam's hopeful looking face. Harry didn't have the heart or inclination to feel bad about it.

"Little prick," Ellis snapped, jabbing his wand at the door to lock and silence it. "I'd say thank you for rescuing me from him but you're not supposed to be here, you arsehole. You're going to get me in trouble."

"Someone's following Draco," Harry burst out, and Ellis paused, hands on the arms on his chair. He frowned and then sat down heavily.

"Apart from you?"

Harry didn't even bother to acknowledge the joke. "We went to get his stuff," he said, stepping restlessly from side to side, running his hand through his hair again. "There was a surveillance charm on the door."

"For fucks sake, sit down," Ellis said, flicking his wand so the spare chair shot forwards, hitting Harry in the back of the legs and sending him tumbling into it. "_Breathe_."

Harry inhaled shakily, knowing he had to calm down. He sat up in the chair and ran both his hands through his hair again, ignoring Ellis's tut and look of exasperation. He didn't care if he looked a mess, there were bigger issues at hand. He shut his eyes and tried to order his thoughts, considering what needed to be said first and what could wait.

"We went to his flat on Knockturn," he said again, this time slightly slower and at a quieter volume. "Just to pick up some things for Scorpius."

"The kid?" Ellis asked, leaning back and looking thoughtful.

Harry nodded, feeling ridiculously grateful that they'd not taken Scorpius with them earlier that day. He couldn't bear the thought of him being dragged through any more mess. "The door was warded – specto custodio."

"Red light?" Ellis said, and Harry nodded. "Did anyone appear?"

Harry rubbed his face. "I heard someone apparate in the Alley, about three people maybe. Threw a curse at the window and broke it, so we legged it. Apparated back home as fast as I could fucking could."

"Wonderful. More law breaking from our favourite saviour," Ellis remarked dryly. "I'll let you off, considering the circumstances. Is Malfoy okay?"

"Yeah, we got home fine. He's just majorly shook up," Harry said, feeling guilt slicing through him. "Would be, considering I told him we figured he was free from this mess."

Ellis shrugged. "We made a whoopsie," he said. "It happens."

Harry felt anger flare through him. "_Ellis_-"

"Alright, calm down," Ellis said, leaning forwards again. "Stop glaring at me. It doesn't scare me in the slightest."

"This isn't funny!" Harry said, and he knew he was shouting and he didn't care. "For fucks sake, I thought this was over but no, I've somehow ended up in a relationship with someone still involved with a fucking international crime ring-"

"You what?" Ellis asked, gobsmacked. "You just said the 'R' word."

Harry slumped back into his chair, leaning on the edge of Ellis's desk with his elbow and covering half of his face with his hand. "Yeah," he admitted, feeling defeated. "I did."

"You bloody idiot," Ellis said, looking somewhere between awed and stunned. "You're _Harry Potter_. Why would you pick the fucking ex-death-eater rentboy to be your boyfriend? You could have had _anyone_."

Harry couldn't even be bothered to argue. "My kids like him," he said humourlessly, dropping his hand from his face. He met Ellis's gaze and watched as Ellis's obnoxious frown slowly faded, probably sensing that Harry was both deadly serious and _not_ in the mood for arsing about.

"Well," Ellis said slowly, as if trying very hard to think of something nice to say. "I suppose that's something in the pro list."

"What am I going to do?" Harry asked helplessly. Ellis didn't reply for a moment, instead he just watched Harry, looking thoughtful.

"So," he finally said. "Specto custodio?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, looking down at his knees. "Don't think it could have been anything else. Same red light, pulsing slightly."

"Well, you know that's just a surveillance charm to see if anyone passes through a certain point?" Ellis pointed out. "It wasn't necessary checking in on Malfoy. It won't tell them who had been through the door, just that _someone_ had."

"But they knew he lived there," Harry pressed. "No-one else would have cause to go there."

Ellis blew out a breath, and Harry took his silence as him acknowledging the point. He bought his hand up to his mouth, tapping his lower lip with his fingers as he thought about any other considerations. Harry let him think; he trusted Ellis and valued his input and opinions so would readily wait to see what else he would say.

"Have you checked him for hunting hexes?" Ellis asked, snapping his fingers together as if he'd thought of something brilliant. Harry shook his head, wondering where this was going.

"Well, since you've gotten involved the Aurors have taken their hunting hexes off of him," Ellis said. "Didn't think there was any point following him anymore. So, if there's any left on him, they're not ours."

Harry's eyes widened, understanding the implication. "How do I check?" he asked urgently. Christ, how had he not thought of that before? If the gang were following Draco the only real way they could do it was by setting a hunting hex on him.

"Venor reperio indico," Ellis said, opening a desk drawer and pulling out a quill and parchment, carefully writing down the three words. "Wave your wand left to right. Don't jab it whatever you do, or he's likely to lose his bollocks."

He slid the parchment across to Harry. "Look for green light on his extremities, that means he's clean. Hands and feet, not his penis."

"You're not funny," Harry said flatly, and looked down at the parchment, not reaching out for it straight away. "Will this really work?"

"Well, if you weren't so worried about him you'd be able to think rationally," Ellis said bluntly, and Harry winced, knowing he was right. "There's every chance they were checking up on the flat, not chasing after Malfoy. The flat is probably worth more than him."

"Then why break the window?" Harry persisted. "Why aim hexes at us?"

Ellis shrugged. "You said they didn't come in, or see you? Well then they might not have actually been aiming at Malfoy. Maybe they were just after trespassers, taking pot-shots."

"You think?" Harry asked hopefully.

Ellis shrugged. "Well, if they were after Malfoy they must have just assumed that it was him at the flat. Though saying that, they probably wouldn't hesitate to try and take Malfoy out if he appeared under their noses. I don't reckon they'd actively come after him, but it's different if he goes _to_ them."

Harry sat perfectly still, thinking hard. "Do you really believe that?" he asked. "Or are you just trying to get me to shut up?"

"Check him for hunting hexes," Ellis said seriously. "If there's anything on him, then you'll know they're after him and you can say I told you so. If there's not, then you'll know they were just watching the flat. Here, try this as well. It's not _technically_ Ministry approved, but if you want to be sure. Venatio omnia."

Harry watched as Ellis pulled the parchment back across the desk, picking up his quill again. "Dare I ask why it's not approved?"

"It hurts," Ellis said bluntly. "But it's very thorough, and will pick up any sort of tracking charm, including the ones that are also a bit less legal. If he's got anything he'll go blue, if he's fine he'll go green."

"How much will it hurt?" Harry asked with some trepidation.

Ellis grimaced. "Not too bad. Well, more than a knee in the crotch and probably a few notches below crucio. Definitely give him some warning before you do it."

Harry reached out and took the piece of parchment, fingering it and staring down at the neatly scripted words. "So, if there's nothing on him, then we're okay? It was just the flat?"

"Trust in my super-intelligence and highly-honed instinct," Ellis said. "Your judgement has obviously been turned to mush."

Harry frowned. "It's not just what happened today," he said, not entirely willing to admit that he may have over-reacted. "When we went to the park the other day, I swear someone was watching us."

"You went to the _park_?" Ellis asked, sounding disgusted. "God, you romantic sap."

"We took the kids," Harry said pointedly, and Ellis looked disappointed.

"Oh, fine. Ruin my fun."

"The point is that someone was watching us," Harry said. "I think anyway."

"Well there you go," Ellis said flatly, and Harry looked up at him curiously. "If you're saying _I think_, then you're obviously just being paranoid. You're normally so certain about stuff like that. Are you sure they were watching you? Who was it? What were they doing?"

"A couple, bloke and a woman," Harry said, and reached up to scratch his ear, feeling daft all of a sudden. "They were…feeding the ducks, alright? But I swear – something was up with them-"

"Go away," Ellis said over him, tone insistent. He pointed towards the door. "Go away. Feeding the fucking ducks. You realise they were probably just nosing at the queer couple with the mental children?"

"That was my second thought," Harry admitted grudgingly. He sighed and took his glasses off, rubbing his eyes. "I just…considering the state I found him in."

"You panicked. I know," Ellis said, and his voice was unusually mellow. "It's understandable. Now go home and shag your boyfriend. Stop worrying."

Harry rolled his eyes at Ellis's return to his normal tone, pushing himself out of the chair. "So you honestly think-"

"Christ," Ellis blew out a breath. "Look - have you noticed anyone lurking around your house?"

Harry frowned, casting his mind back. "No."

"Well, add that to the puzzle," Ellis said. "If they were following him or after him, surely you'd have noticed people lurking about your place if that's where he is?"

Harry instantly remembered the death eaters that had spent days outside his house during the war, watching the space where the house should have been. He hadn't seen anything like that of late, although he didn't think that this current situation was quite as big as the one he'd been involved in back then.

"No," he said slowly. "I haven't."

"There you go then," Ellis said promptly, and a small part of Harry wondered how the fuck he could be so calm and bloody sensible about it. "If you've not seen anyone that has followed him to your house, and there's no hunting hexes on him, then you're fine. It was probably just a stupid idea going back to the flat."

"You think?"

"_Yes_." Ellis said impatiently. "Go and check him, then you'll have your answers. God, your brain really had taken up residence in your dick, hasn't it?"

"I hate you," Harry said matter-of-factly. "So much."

"You love me," Ellis said dismissively. "If I weren't here you'd be flailing about and whining to that ginger mate of yours, and I guarantee he wouldn't be half as useful as me."

"Fuck off," Harry replied. "You're probably right."

Ellis laughed and Harry turned towards the door, tucking the piece of parchment in his pocket.

"Let me know how it goes," Ellis said. "And if Campbell is behind that door, punch him in the face for me."

Harry chuckled, drawing his wand to unlock the door so he could get out. He left without another word, shutting the door behind him and noticing thankfully that Adam Campbell was nowhere in sight.

He took a few slow steps down the corridor, thinking hard. He blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair again, barely even noticing that he was doing it. The panic and adrenaline from the earlier moment had faded, allowing him to think about what had happened more objectively.

Maybe the surveillance charm had only been there on the flat. Maybe it had been intended for Draco, Harry didn't know. He tried to search inside himself to see what his gut reaction was, but he couldn't; all he could find was the twist of emotion that just wanted to get back to Draco and the boys. Ellis was probably right about that as well; because of Harry's worry and feelings for Draco, he couldn't just trust his instinct. He'd automatically thought the worst instead of taking a step back and looking at the evidence in any sort of logical manner, and he knew that was partly because he was so damn overprotective of Draco.

_Home,_ he thought. He would just have to do as Ellis suggested and check Draco for hunting hexes, although the thought of having to cause Draco any pain made Harry feel sick deep down in his stomach. He was supposed to be protecting Draco and looking after him, not bloody hexing him. Fuck, he didn't really have a choice though, did he? Not if they wanted to find out if Draco was in any trouble.

He blinked behind his glasses and swallowed thickly before making himself move, heading out of the department and back to the lifts. His pace was significantly slower than when he had entered the department, a clear reflection of his mood and emotions. After speaking to Ellis he wasn't wound quite so tightly and his panic had abated, allowing him to keep calm and try and think about the situation more objectively.

_Well, that's what you get for getting involved with Draco Malfoy,_ he sighed internally as he slipped into the lift, somehow knowing that if he could get his hands on a time-turned, he'd probably still step in and rescue Draco from that damn hospital all over again.

His mouth curved in a small rueful smile as he pictured Draco curled up in his bed, fast asleep and reaching out towards Harry. Yeah, there was no doubt about it really; despite all this he wouldn't give Draco up for anything.

The thought was a comforting one; at least he had the conviction that he was doing the right thing regarding Draco, even if the situation was complicated. He took a deep breath and his stomach relaxed slightly, some of the twisting worry easing a little into something more purposeful and controlled. All he could do now was get home, and hopefully find some answers.

* * *

><p>Harry had never been so relieved to arrive home as he was that day. Clambering out of the floo in the living room, he found Luna sitting in the chair – Draco's chair – and reading an old copy of the Quibbler. Her expression was so placid that Harry could almost believe that she wasn't waiting for Harry's return and news about the mess Draco was in.<p>

"We never did find those Snorckacks," she said with a sigh as Harry brushed himself down, putting the magazine aside and then looking up. "How did it go?"

"I have to check him for hunting hexes," Harry said, his stomach still in a knot. "If there aren't any, then we think that the ward was just there to watch the flat."

"What do you think?" Luna asked curiously.

Harry shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. At first I thought they were after him, but now I just don't know. There hasn't been anyone here looking for him, only the thing on his flat…" he broke off. "Can you not tell anyone about this?" he asked, biting his lip. "I don't want to cause any worry."

"I won't," Luna said, and stood up, walking over to him to kiss him on his cheek. "It's probably nothing anyway. You always have worried about him, haven't you?"

Harry laughed thickly. "Too right. Have you got to go?"

"Yes," Luna said without inflection. "Go and see Draco. He's been drinking."

Harry felt his heart sink. "What?"

"You can hardly blame him, can you?" Luna said gently, and then she left, pulling a pinch of floo powder out of her pocket and throwing it into the grate, vanishing with a small sad smile that made Harry feel like crying.

He took his glasses off and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, feeling exhausted and a lot older than he was. He drew in a deep breath, at a loss as to what to do and feeling frustrated and disappointed in himself with his lack of purpose and decision.

Voices belonging to the children drifted down the corridor, and the sound brought him back to himself, reminding him of why he was here and what he needed to do. For everyone's sake, he had to find out if Draco was being tracked, and that meant finding him and casting the spells that Ellis had given him. He shoved his glasses back on his nose and straightened them as he went in search of Draco.

He wasn't hard to find. Harry had had an inkling of where he might find him, and was relieved to find at least some of his instincts were still serving him well as he found Draco in the spare room, exactly where he thought he'd be.

Draco was sat on the floor, leaning back against the end of the bed. His knees were brought up to his chest, his face hidden in his knees. His fingers were looped around his ankles and by his feet was a bottle of Jack Daniels, the lid discarded a way away.

Harry fought down his surge of disappointment and anger, knowing that this was not the time to be picking a fight with Draco over his drinking. Instead, channelling calm from somewhere and wishing that Ron and Hermione were here to help him sort out the mess he'd ended up in, he padded over and picked up the bottle and lid. Draco didn't so much as move as Harry walked into the en-suite and poured the rest of the contents of the bottle down the sink. The brown liquid glugged out, the small harsh and making Harry's stomach turn. He remembered the first time he'd met Draco this year, when he'd told Harry his name was Jack Daniels. At the time it had been ridiculous; now, it just made tears prick at the back of his eyes as he realised just how dependent on the fucking stuff Draco had become.

He left the bottle on the side of the sink, placing the lid beside it, and then walked back into the bedroom, kneeling down beside Draco. He reached out and slipped his hand onto the back of Draco's neck and felt him shudder under his hand.

"I'm back," Harry whispered, a lump in his throat. Draco nodded mutely and lifted his head, and Harry saw his eyes were red and blotchy.

"Where did you go?"

"To talk to Ellis," Harry whispered, and fear flittered across Draco's face.

"You didn't tell him what happened, did you?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I thought-"

"You shouldn't have told him," Draco said, looking panicked. "You shouldn't have told anyone."

"Why not?" Harry asked, perplexed. "He helped."

"I don't trust him," Draco said, blinking hard. "What if he's the one that told them I was going back? What if he's one of the Aurors working for the gang?"

"I trust him," Harry said, shaking his head and thankful that he at least knew that much for definite.

"Why?"

"I just do, alright?" Harry whispered, his thumb moving to trace a gentle path on the skin of Draco's neck. "Like I trust you. No idea why, but I do."

Draco nodded and as he blinked, more tears ran down his cheeks. "Did he know why they were after me?" he asked, his voice catching on the words.

"He doesn't think they're after you," Harry said. "He thinks the ward was there to keep an eye on the flat, not to keep an eye on you."

Draco blinked rapidly again, eyes going wide in hope. "How does he know?"

"He doesn't," Harry said softly, and leant back so he could pull the piece of parchment Ellis had given him out of his pocket. "But we can check."

Draco took the piece of parchment and stared at it for a moment. Harry watched him swallow, and then he handed the piece of paper back.

"Do it," he said, his voice trembling. "The second one."

Harry was taken aback. "You know-"

"It hurts like fuck, I know," Draco said. "They did it to me when I first met the boss, to check I wasn't already being followed. Just do it, if you know how."

Harry drew his wand. "I don't want to hurt you," he said helplessly.

"Man up and do it," Draco said fiercely, and Harry didn't know if it was him or the drink talking or of he should even care. He dithered for a moment, torn. He didn't want to hurt Draco and he didn't want to do this only to find out that was being followed – he just wanted things to go back to how they had been for the past few days. He wanted his life back, wanted that promising spark between him and Draco to be able to actually go somewhere.

Harry swallowed and then nodded. Draco reached for him, grabbing hold of Harry's shoulder and breathing in and out harshly through his mouth, obviously trying to keep calm and not tense up.

Glancing down at the parchment, Harry steeled himself. He pushed away the part of his brain that was demanding he pack it the fuck in and _never_ point his wand at Draco, and then did just that.

"Venatio Omnia."

Draco's eyes flew open and he let out a strangled scream as his back arched violently, eyes rolling back into his skull. Harry grabbed hold of his wrist and yanked his hand towards him, desperately trying to hold on-

As quickly as it started, it ended. Draco went limp, shaking all over and drawing in great shuddering breaths. Harry kept hold of his hand, holding on so tight that he could see white indents on Draco's skin underneath his gripping fingers. He waited and waited, his stomach twisting in sick anticipation-

"Has my hand gone green?"

Harry let out a choked laugh at the faintly slurred words because _yes_, Draco's fingers were glowing a soft forest green. Tears in his eyes, Harry looked at Draco's face and laughed even harder because the tips of his nose and ears were also faintly green.

He wiped his eyes on the back of his wrist. "No tracking charms of any kind," he said. "They weren't after you."

Draco's reaction was to stare at Harry for a long moment, and then burst into tears. He yanked his hand out of Harry's grip to cover his face, sobbing so hard his shoulders shook.

Harry took hold of him without thinking, not even considering that he should be careful with him. It didn't seem to matter; Draco allowed himself to be pulled into Harrys lap, slumping back against him, his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's middle and shifted forwards so his chest was pressed fully to Draco's back, and Draco placed his hands over Harry's arms, clinging onto his wrists so tightly it almost hurt.

"We heard a scream – Dad, what's happening?"

Harry turned his head to see James in the doorway looking worried, Al and Scorpius just behind him. Scorpius had panda in his arms and as he spotted Draco he ran in, speaking rapidly in French.

"Ne pleure pas, Papa," he said, sounding worried. "Écoute, Harry est revenu comme il l'avait promis. Souviens-toi, James a dit qu'il revient toujours lorsqu'il le promet."

He knelt down next to Harry and Draco and reached out to hold onto Draco's fingers. Harry had no idea what he'd just said but Draco let out a small, choked laugh and then let go of Harry to hold onto Scorpius. Harry moved his arms out of the way as well, and Scorpius clambered onto Draco's lap, hugging him tightly. He was still crying but it sounded to be more out of relief than anything.

Harry heard quiet footsteps and then to his surprise James came over, kneeling beside them and reaching up to gently hug Draco. Harry felt his own throat tighten alarmingly as Draco opened his eyes blearily, looking around to see who had just wrapped small arms around his neck.

"It's okay, Dad's back," James whispered, and Draco laughed weakly, the sound thick with tears. Harry felt him move and leant back as Draco shifted, wrapping an arm around James's middle. He'd barely settled in place when Al appeared at his side, wide-eyed and worried.

"Do you have to go out again?"

Harry shook his head and Al looked relieved, before crouching down and carefully edging forwards to hug Draco as well. Harry felt his heart swelling in his chest as Draco shifted his arms so he was hugging the children as best he could, his arms wrapped around all three of them. Harry tentatively put his arms over Draco's, his fingers wrapping gently around his wrists.

Slowly, Draco stopped crying. He lifted his head away from Scorpius's, and tipped it back against Harry's shoulder, eyes shut and breathing heavy. Harry turned his head to the side and pressed his mouth to Draco's temple, wishing that he'd given Luna a heads-up and asked her to make sure Draco didn't drink, but then again Draco didn't have many ways of coping. He had booze and he had Harry, and considering Harry hadn't been there, he shouldn't have been surprised as to where Draco had gone for comfort – if it could even be called that.

They sat there for a long time and Harry was grateful for the time in which to sit and think, surrounded by what had become the four most important people in his life. He watched Scorpius's small hand stroking along Draco's cheek, calmer than he had been all day.

The relief he could feel was unmistakable, wanting him to collapse back in a boneless heap on the carpet. They'd done what they needed to do, and now never had to go back to Knockturn again, never had to go anywhere near Draco's old life. They could forget about it and move on, and start their new life which didn't involve criminals or tracking charms or anything of the bloody sort.

"Okay?" he finally murmured, pressing another kiss to Draco's temple. Draco nodded lethargically, and Harry wondered how much he'd had to drink.

"I'm sorry for drinking," Draco whispered, and Harry ran a hand over the back of his head, not knowing what to say.

"S'okay," he finally went with. "You didn't know that they weren't after you."

Draco nodded again. "I want to sleep."

Harry nodded in return, finally feeling in control of the situation and more like his normal self than he had done all day. "Come on then, there's a bed right here. Boys, mind out."

The boys obediently moved away, though Scorpius stayed close, reaching out to touch Draco's shoulder, clearly not wanting to leave. The panda toy was tucked securely in the crook of his elbow, holding it tightly to himself.

"James, take Scorpius and Al and get you all something out of the pantry, yeah? The cake box."

James nodded and turned to the door, Al following him immediately. Scorpius didn't move, and Harry watched as James walked back towards him, gently taking his hand.

"Dad'll look after him," he said quietly. "I think he's going to go to sleep."

Scorpius nodded, slipping his fingers into his mouth and tightening his grip on James's hand. Harry's heart ached with pride in his eldest son, and watched him lead Al and Scorpius out of the room, only looking away when their footsteps had faded and their voices were barely audible.

Without speaking, Harry gently pushed Draco forwards so he could stand up behind him, moving around and holding out his hands for Draco to take. He did so without question and staggered to his feet, heavy in Harry's grip.

Harry looped an arm around his waist and guided him around the bed, carefully lowering him onto the blankets. Draco half-fell, half-sat down, propping himself up on an elbow and rubbing his face with his hand.

"Harry," he said, and reached for Harry's hand, gripping tightly to his fingers. He looked up and Harry saw the sheer amount of hope and trust in his expression, so much that it was almost overwhelming. "They weren't after me?"

Harry shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Draco, not letting go of his hand. "We don't think so. If they were after you…well, I assume they had tracking charms on you whilst you were working for them?"

"I think so."

"Then they've taken them off," Harry said with a small shrug. "They wouldn't have done that if you were still of interest. If we don't go anywhere near Knockturn nothing will probably happen ever again."

Draco nodded, and Harry realised with a jolt that Draco believed it, possibly just because Harry did. "Thank you for getting me out of there," he said quietly.

Harry brought their joined hands up to his mouth, kissing Draco's knuckles. "I wasn't just going to leave you, prat."

Draco's mouth hitched in a weak smile. "Didn't think you would. Stay with me?"

Harry shook his head. "You sleep, I'll go explain to the boys. I think we scared them a bit with the shouting."

"Tell them it's okay," Draco said unnecessarily. "James came to check on me, you know. He said you'd asked him to look after me."

"I did," Harry said softly. "Did he see you drinking?"

Draco shook his head. "He asked if I wanted tea and then I asked him to look after Scorpius."

"Good," Harry said, glad that the boys hadn't seen Draco drinking. He'd already had to answer enough awkward questions lately without adding that one to the list.

"He hugged me," Draco said suddenly, looking up at Harry with uncertain grey eyes, brow furrowed as if he just couldn't work out why James would do such a thing.

"He likes you," Harry said softly. "Face it, we're all in this together now, and they know it too."

Draco smiled weakly again and then sighed. "So no hope of going back to get my money or my scarf?"

Harry shook his head. "Not a chance."

Draco looked forlorn for a moment and then nodded. "S'pose. Doesn't matter now I'm a Ravenclaw anyway."

Harry laughed softly and leant forwards to gently kiss Draco. As he did, he caught the sharp taste of alcohol on Draco's lips and pulled back, not liking the memories that the smell and taste evoked. He brushed his hand over Draco's hair.

"Go to sleep," he said, and Draco obliged, turning to the side and lying down, reaching up to pull at a pillow. Not bothering to get under the blankets, Draco heaved out a sigh, his whole body going lax and his eyes fluttering closed.

Still perched on the edge of the bed, Harry watched him for a while, until Draco's breathing went deep and even, his chest steadily rising and falling. It calmed Harry to just sit there and watch, thinking a little about what had happened. It made sense to him that the surveillance charm would have been there to watch the flat as opposed to Draco; maybe they were just waiting to see if he would go back or not so they could give the flat to his replacement, or whatever it was that crime-rings did with their properties. And now he was thinking a bit more logically, Harry had to concede that Ellis had had a point; the only time anything had actually happened to Draco was when they'd stepped back onto Knockturn, into potential hightops territory. Nothing had happened that day he'd been out to the park, which would have been an easy opportunity to grab Draco, especially when he'd wandered away from Harry towards the pond.

Climbing to his feet and leaving the spare room, Harry couldn't help but find himself infinitely grateful that he hadn't let Draco go alone to fetch his things. In a way it was a bit of an anti-climax to the events of the morning; to find out Draco wasn't being followed and didn't have anything to fear was certainly a relief.

Harry had always thought going back to the flat was a terrible idea, and all that had happened was that he'd been proved right. He smiled wanly to himself as he made his way downstairs to find the boys, wondering how Draco would react if he decided to say _'I told you so.'_


	24. Chapter 24

_**AN:** Last chapter someone said they missed my authors notes. So this one is for you *dances* Thank you to everyone who puts up with my shoddy timekeeping - blame my new job for my inability to know when it is Thursday. And next update will be next Sunday, I'm going away in about twenty minutes and am holding everyone else up whilst I post this. Go me._

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><p><strong>Chapter 24<strong>

Draco opened his eyes blearily, head aching and stomach feeling uneasy. For a moment he wondered where the hell he was, and then realised that he was back in the spare room. The events of the day came back in quick succession and he sat up gingerly, feeling alone and ill.

He wished he hadn't drunk anything. He'd been so sure that they had set the surveillance charm on the flat to get at _him_, but when he thought about it, it did make more sense that they were looking at the flat. He had no tracking charms on him, which he suspected there would have been if they were truly interested in hunting him down.

He shivered, wishing Harry was with him. Stomach turning, he carefully climbed out of the bed and shuffled over towards the door, opening it with unsteady fingers. He still felt dizzy, and had no idea what time it was.

He could hear voices downstairs in the kitchen but didn't head towards them; he trusted Scorpius to be safe with Harry and didn't really want any of the boys seeing him in this state, not any more than they already had, anyway. He felt exhausted, ashamed and still a little achy from the charm Harry had cast on him to check for hunting hexes.

Hand on the bannister, he stopped on the landing, breathing in and out deeply and wishing he hadn't moved. He swallowed thickly and looked around towards the second staircase that led up to Harry's bedroom. _Their_ bedroom.

Making tentative steps along the corridor with a hand on the wall to keep his balance, he made his way towards the staircase, thinking that if he couldn't have Harry by his side he'd go for the next best thing. His legs were shaky, as if he were a newly-born unicorn, steps faltering and stumbling and full of over-exaggerated care as he tried not to fall.

He tried not to think. The events of the day were still sharp in his mind and chest, and he still felt shaky, vulnerable and not altogether in control. Drinking had dulled the fear and panic to begin with, but now he just felt raw and open, like a scrape that hadn't yet begun to heal. The lights in the corridor seemed too bright, and he wished he were back in the safety of the darkness.

After what seemed like a huge amount of effort and time, he collapsed down onto the unmade bed that he couldn't help but think of theirs. The sheets and pillows still smelt like a combination of him Harry, and it soothed his jagged nerves and upturned stomach. Not even bothering to clamber up to lie in the bed properly, he used the last of his energy and pulled all the pillows and blankets around him, creating a nest of Harry-scented bedding around himself.

He felt tears pricking underneath his closed eyelids and curled in on himself even tighter, wishing that he weren't alone. He clenched his eyes tightly shut when he realised with a jolt that his immediate thought had been to want Harry with him, not Scorpius.

He loved his son, he thought fiercely. He had never loved anything or anyone as much as he loved Scorpius and that would never change, not ever. But Harry had saved him again and again, in more ways than one. He'd grown into a man who had not only forgiven Draco for everything he'd done, but let Draco forgive him as well, as if they were equals. He'd gone out of his way to keep Draco safe, and Draco could accept the pity and help Harry had given him because now he knew that Harry had also wanted to keep Draco safe because Harry had liked him, wanted him for himself.

Draco felt a tear slip out from underneath his closed eyelid, a warm trickle down his face. He reached up to wipe at it with his knuckles, laughing thickly as he did.

Yes, he still loved Scorpius more than anyone, but it wasn't his fault that he'd somehow fallen in love with Harry as well.

A small, weak smile curved his mouth, chin trembling as another tear slipped down his face, not borne of sadness but of something else, some wonderful and daunting mix of emotions too deep and large for Draco's exhausted mind to fathom.

Breathing out deeply, he shut his eyes and was asleep within moments.

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><p>Harry carefully slid the last bottle of wine into the magically expanded carry case that sat atop the kitchen table, nestling it between a bottle of red and a bottle of whiskey that he'd found in the pantry. That was all of the alcohol in the house safely packed away in this box, ready to be locked with every damn charm he knew and then hidden away in the cellar. He flicked his wand to make the cardboard flaps flip closed and slip neatly into place, and inwardly hoped that Draco hadn't managed to hide any more away in his room.<p>

As he cast a sealing charm on the box, he wondered if he should tell Draco what he'd done, or just let him notice. He didn't want to make a big deal out of the fact he'd taken away all the booze, because in some way he didn't feel like Draco's stupid problem should be validated by them talking about it. On the other hand, if they spoke about it then it took away the possibility of Draco having a shock the next time he went to find something to drink.

He'd tell him in the morning, Harry thought as he magically lightened the box and picked it up. The potential for an argument about it was still more welcome than Draco going off on one when he went to get drunk and found he couldn't.

_This being grown up thing really is a pain in the arse,_ Harry thought with a wan smile as he carefully carried the box down to the cellar, setting it at the bottom of the stairs then retreating and locking the door.

He breathed out heavily, hands on the back of his head and wondering what to do. The boys were all already in bed and the sun was starting to fade over the horizon, casting long, soft shadows throughout the house. It was warm and pleasant and he'd like nothing more than to sit with Draco and just relax. If it were possible he'd want to go for a walk, to enjoy the cool air and the last of the sunlight.

He pushed the wistful thoughts away; things like that would have to wait. What he had to do first was check that Draco was okay, and see how he was feeling after his drinking binge earlier. Padding over to the worktop, he waved his wand to take away the heating charm he'd left on the bowl of carbonara left over from tea. At least Scorpius had been excited to have been served spaghetti again, he thought with a smile as he picked up the bowl and summoned a fork, grabbing it out of the air as if he were grabbing the snitch.

As he left the kitchen and walked up the stairs, he smiled at the picture of him, Ron, Seamus and Neville, absent-mindedly thinking that he should really make time to see them all. He missed Ron's company already, and he'd not seen Neville and Seamus since the last barbeque he'd attended, right back when he'd first seen Draco. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at himself as he thought back to finding Draco swimming about in the fountain, at the time unable to work out why he'd been staring-

His thoughts abruptly stopped as he pushed open the door to the spare room and found it empty. The covers were rumpled from where Draco had been asleep on top of them, but he was nowhere in sight. The bathroom door was open, the room beyond still and silent.

"Shit," Harry cursed aloud, the bottom dropping out of his stomach and his whole body stopping in place. He had left Draco _right there_ on the bed and now he was _gone_, and if he had somehow left without Harry knowing he was going to completely lose his mind. Making himself move, Harry backed out of the room and strode over to Al's, pushing the door open as quietly as he could, cursing under his breath when it caught on something behind the door. He pushed a little harder until the door opened enough for him to see across to the bed by the window, and his stomach swooped in relief as he saw Scorpius was still there, fast asleep under his blankets.

Of course Draco wouldn't leave without Scorpius, Harry thought as he stepped back and shut the door. Draco would rather leave without his magic than leave without Scorpius, he was sure. Which meant that Draco couldn't be far away-

Harry paused, mid-thought. He slowly turned to look at the stairs that led up to his room, wondering – and hoping – that maybe, just maybe…

Bowl of pasta still in hand, he quickly climbed the stairs two at a time, heart skipping in his chest at the implications if Draco had indeed moved from the spare room up to Harry's. He pushed the door open and stopped dead, a relieved laugh slipping past his lips. He shook his head fondly as he saw Draco curled up smack bang in the middle of his bed, all the pillows and blankets pulled around him. It looked like he was nesting, Harry thought, biting his bottom lip to hold back a smile, wishing that he could have spent the day curled up with Draco in the tangle of blankets and pillows.

For a moment, he debated leaving him to sleep, unwilling to wake him when he looked so calm and peaceful. He'd always thought Draco looked most relaxed when sleeping, and today was no exception. His brow was free of frowns and scowls, and his mouth was slightly open, his breathing deep and even.

Although, he had to acknowledge that Draco hadn't eaten all day so waking him up for food was probably higher on the priority list than letting him sleep, especially considering that he'd been asleep all day anyway. Not to mention that if Harry wanted to go to bed he'd have to either move Draco out of his spot in the middle of the bed or sleep somewhere else.

With that in mind, he swiftly chose the option of waking Draco up. "You nearly gave me a heart-attack, you complete git," he called, stepping forwards. "I thought I'd lost you for a moment."

Draco's body shifted in response to Harry's voice, curling in tighter on himself and making a sleepy noise in the back of his throat. Harry smiled and walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting his hand on Draco's hip. He was still so damn skinny, Harry thought as he traced his thumb over the ridge of bone before squeezing and giving Draco a shake.

"Wake up, I've brought you dinner."

Draco made another noise, somewhere between a groan and a whine, and lifted a hand to try and push Harry's hand away before lifting his head and blinking blearily. He stopped trying to push Harry's hand away and instead rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles, looking oddly young as he did. As he pulled his hand away his eyes focussed on Harry and he blinked at him as if he'd never seen him before in his life. Harry felt a strange ripple go down his spine at the intensity of the gaze that seemed to want to say more than Draco was letting on.

Draco swallowed and blinked again, looking down at the bowl of pasta with a wobbly smile passing fleetingly over his face; the kind of smile where someone was upset but trying to make light of it by laughing instead of crying. As Harry wondered why Draco would be as affected by a simple bowl of pasta, the strange intense moment was broken. Harry tried to collect himself, wondering what Draco had been thinking as he'd looked at him and debating what to say to return to normalcy.

He went for saying exactly what he was thinking. "I don't know if I should be hugging you, kissing you or shouting at you," he said with a rueful smile.

"Can you leave the third option until I don't feel like shit?" Draco said, his voice small and hoarse. "You can't be that mad or you wouldn't have brought me dinner."

Harry smiled, conceding the point and knowing that he really wasn't that mad anyway. It was as if all the anger that had used to flare up between them had been toned down into a simmering connection that had other priorities for channelling energy into other than fighting. Harry held out the bowl and Draco gingerly pushed himself into a sitting position, reaching out for it and looking grateful. He crossed his legs and set the bowl carefully in the dip between his legs, reaching for the fork.

Harry summoned the glass from the bedside table and waved his wand to replace the water with fresh. "Here," he said softly and Draco looked up and took the water with a mumbled _"thank you."_

Putting his wand back in his pocket, Harry sat quietly as Draco drained the glass of water in one go, putting the glass aside before turning his attention back to the food. Harry was relieved to see him dig in and eat; if he'd been really drunk earlier then he probably wouldn't have been as enthusiastic about the prospect of food.

"You know I'm pretending that you're bringing me food and looking after me because I'm ill, not because I'm hungover?" Draco said suddenly, his tone casual.

Harry leant back onto the bed, propping himself up on his elbow. "Why?"

Draco shrugged minutely. "Misplaced sense of pride, maybe? I think there's a little bit left somewhere."

Harry smiled weakly. "Alright. You carry on pretending."

Draco didn't reply, but it didn't matter. He carried on slowly eating, eyes trained on the bowl in front of him. Harry let himself watch Draco, wondering what he was thinking about. Was he really pretending that he was ill instead of hungover? Did it even matter? Harry supposed that the important thing was that Draco was now willing to let Harry help and look after him, instead of being as prickly and defensive as he had been when he first arrived.

"I can't eat it all," Draco said quietly some time later. He was twisting the fork around in the leftovers, looking unenthusiastic about eating anymore. Harry understood; when he'd spent most of his time drunk or hungover, eating hadn't been the most appealing of activities.

He took the bowl from Draco and set it on the floor beside the bed, hoping he'd remember not to tread on it in the morning as he definitely couldn't be bothered to take it downstairs now. Draco watched him do it, looking tired but not as bad as he had when he'd first woken up.

"Feeling okay?" Harry asked and Draco nodded.

"Not too bad, considering," he said, voice still a little rough. "Just tired. Better now I've eaten something. Where's Scorpius?"

"In bed," Harry said, fiddling with the corner of the pillow that had ended up down near the foot of the bed. "It's pretty late. I promised them you'd have breakfast with them in the morning after you'd had a good sleep."

Draco nodded. "How late is it? Late enough so I can go back to sleep?"

"Course," Harry said simply. "I'm about ready to turn in anyway. I'll read for a bit if you want to go straight to sleep."

Draco appeared to hesitate. He looked up at Harry and his jaw moved minutely as if he were about to speak, but he didn't. He looked at Harry for a long moment, and then seemed to notice what he was doing and quickly looked away. Harry was intrigued; what was with the return to Draco's nervousness? He thought they were past all that – although this new case of the jitters seemed tinted with a certain shyness, rather than because Draco was uncomfortable with talking or being around Harry.

Finally deciding to move, Draco uncrossed his legs and shook his head. "Would rather shower first," he said, climbing off the bed and standing up a little unsteadily. "Think I'll sleep better if I do."

Harry nodded. "Sure. Mind if I disassemble your nest and put the bed back together?" he asked, gesturing to the heap of bedding atop the mattress.

Draco flushed and glared half-heartedly at him. "Like to see you get into bed properly when you're pissed and knackered," he muttered, already on his way out of the room.

Smiling, Harry watched him go then set about sorting the bed out, putting pillows back in their rightful places and pulling the duvet straight. He'd been oddly touched by finding Draco in his bed, and could only guess that Draco had felt safer or more comfortable in the bed that they shared. Maybe he should suggest that they make the room theirs permanently? Or maybe that would scare Draco off again? He didn't know.

He got undressed and climbed into bed, leaving his glasses on and reaching for his _Flying First_ magazine that sat on his bedside table. Flicking through the pages, he couldn't help but think about how relatively easily he and Draco had settled in to being together. It hadn't been simple in terms of the issues they'd had to face with the mess Draco was in, but had been when they thought about how well they were getting on. It really was like all the stuff that had happened in their past was part of a separate life, one they'd successfully managed to get past and move on from.

Which meant that if Draco's life were now in some semblance of order, Harry could work on getting his own back on track. Starting with seeing some of his friends, and then maybe going to Kingsley to try and negotiate his return to work. Most of all, he was looking forwards to spending time with Draco without anything hanging over their heads. With the issue of Draco's involvement with Hightops over, they could start doing stuff together. Maybe things as simple as going out for dinner together, maybe even persuading Draco to go shopping with him on Diagon. He smiled to himself as he wondered if he could coerce Draco into joining him for a Sunday barbeque. Maybe if he told Scorpius first – Harry had quickly realised that if Scorpius were excited about doing something it was very hard for Draco to say no, despite what he might personally want.

He couldn't help but think about those odd little glances that Draco had been giving him since he woke up. It was as Draco had just realised that he liked Harry – but they both knew that already. They were in an official, bed-sharing, telling-the-children relationship for Christ's sake – so why was Draco suddenly acting like he'd just realised Harry wasn't a completely awful person to be around or look at?

Maybe it was just him getting used to the whole being-looked-after thing, Harry supposed, turning a page in his magazine. What had he said a minute ago – something about a misplaced sense of pride? Well, he was still a Malfoy at the end of the day, and that wasn't just going to go away no matter how much he'd matured or grown into a halfway decent human being.

Harry had barely had chance to get stuck into reading the article about the proposed new spectator regulations for international Quidditch when the door pushed open again, slithering softly over the carpet. Pushing his glasses back up his nose, Harry faltered as he saw Draco standing there in nothing but a towel, his clothes balled up and held protectively to his chest. That strange expression was back on his face again; looking at Harry like he couldn't quite believe he was real, expression hovering somewhere between laughing and crying. Harry had to admit that he only spared Draco's face a fleeting glance though, as there was far too much pale skin on show for him to waste time focussing on just one bit of it.

"Hey," Harry managed, voice cracking a little. He cleared his throat. "Okay?"

Draco just stared at him, brow knitting in a worried frown, biting nervously on his lower lip. Slowly, he lowered the bundle of clothes and dropped them to the floor, taking a small step towards the bed, one hand going to the towel that was riding precariously low on his hips. Harry couldn't help but stare; normally the only glimpses he got of Draco were in the few seconds whilst they undressed for bed.

"You keep rescuing me," he finally said, the words barely audible and his gaze trained on his feet. Harry's eyes were on Draco's chest, unconsciously searching to see if there was a scar.

"No," he said slowly, looking up to Draco's face. "Today I was rescuing us."

It sounded completely stupid but Draco seemed to understand. He looked up to Harry's face and then away again, swallowing thickly. His fingers tightened around the towel, and Harry wondered what was going on in that blond head.

"Okay," Draco said, and seemed to steel himself. "I–" He broke off, looking torn. He took a deep breath and looked at Harry again, and when he exhaled it came out as a soft huff of strangled laughter. "I just – I was thinking," he tried, forcing the words out and looking as if he were being force-fed skelegrow, his cheeks going pink and his expression pained. "I - oh _fuck_ it."

Draco abruptly stopped talking and Harry's heart stopped in his chest as Draco simply dropped the towel and quickly walked over towards the bed, completely naked. A thrill ran through Harry's body and his fingers tightened on his magazine, his throat suddenly dry. He couldn't help but stare, fuck, they'd shared a bed but he'd never seen Draco before, not all of him-

Draco moved far too quickly for Harry's liking, climbing into bed and pulling the duvet over himself. Still, Harry couldn't help but think Draco was still _naked_, in his bed and only inches away. A tendril of warmth curled down his spine, pooling in his groin and making his prick swell against his inner thigh.

Draco's cheeks were a blotchy pink, the flush extending down to his chest. He lay down as he normally did, facing Harry and with his hand on the pillow just in front of his face. However, he avoided eye contact, looking torn between feeling embarrassed and exhilarated.

Trembling slightly and unable to do anything about his growing erection, Harry reached out and put his hand on Draco's cheek, running his thumb across his jaw. He wanted to pull him closer and kiss him until he couldn't think straight-

His internal debate stopped dead as Draco lifted his eyes to Harry's and then shifted forwards, pressing his mouth to Harry's in one long, lingering kiss that made Harry's toes curl.

"Well," he said faintly as Draco pulled back, ducking his head. "This is unexpected."

He saw Draco's adams-apple moved as he swallowed. "Read into it what you will. And for god's sake please read _something_, because you can fuck off if you think I'm saying it out loud."

Harry couldn't find words. He stared at Draco, mouth hanging slightly open and heart racing in his ribcage, trying to find a coherent thought in his mind. Draco had come back to him and was willing to be naked in bed with him, vulnerable and open for Harry to see. He was willing to do all this after the day they'd had, which only a few weeks or even days ago would have driven a wedge between them, and made Draco run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. The enormity of the gesture took Harry's breath and words away.

"Okay," he finally managed to say, words a little breathless. "Duly noted."

Draco half-laughed, the sound thick and full of relief and god-knew what else. He looked back up at Harry, eyes wide and desperate, then before Harry could say anything he leant in for another kiss and this time he didn't pull back.

Harry made a noise in the back of his throat, half-surprise, half-need. He kissed Draco back, tingles running through him as he opened his mouth under Draco's and was rewarded with Draco's tongue slipping into his mouth, searching for his own. They flicked and thrust together and in some remote part of Harry's brain he thought it almost felt like a duel – _parry-retreat-feint-tease_ – but fuck, this was an infinitely better way of duelling with Draco than going at each other with wands drawn-

Draco suddenly pulled back with a gasp, his body tense. Harry gripped onto him tightly, not willing to let him move away, not now, not after what had just happened. To his surprise, he felt shaking fingers brush his arm and then his chest. The fingers trailed lower, across Harry's stomach, the movement stilted and uncomfortable. Draco swallowed and the hand moved a little further, and it seemed to Harry that Draco was forcing himself to do it, pushing himself to break the boundaries that he hadn't been able to cross.

"Hey," Harry whispered, and caught Draco's in his hand before it went any further. "It's okay."

"I want to," Draco struggled to say. "Let go, let me do this-"

"I know," Harry said, and leant in to gently kiss him, still holding fast to Draco's hand. He wanted Draco to do it too, Christ he wanted it so much he could nearly taste it, but he didn't want it like this. He wanted Draco to want to touch him because they were enjoying it, not because he felt he should and was making himself do it.

Draco pulled away. "Do you not want me to?" he asked, a hint of fear in his tone. "I thought me and you were…I thought-"

Harry kissed him again to cut him off. "Lie back," he whispered, and Draco went tense. Harry placed another gentle kiss to the corner of Draco's mouth. "I want you so badly it's driving me mental," he whispered, and Draco exhaled a shaky laugh. "But I don't want you to just get me off to power through your issues."

"Then what do you want?" Draco asked nervously.

"To take care of you," Harry murmured. "When was the last time anyone did that?"

"Never," Draco replied, his voice trembling as much as his body.

"Lie back," Harry repeated. "Trust me."

To his amazement, Draco did. His whole body relaxed and he rolled sideways onto his back, taking a deep shaky breath as he sank back into the pillows. "Turn the lights off," he said hurriedly, and Harry obliged, leaning over to quickly pick up his wand, dousing the lights and shutting the curtains so they were in darkness. The curtains weren't thick enough to shut out all the light so he could still just about see Draco as a grey-hued figure lying next to him. He carefully took his glasses off, folding the arms and setting them on the bedside table next to his wand.

He knew what he had to do. He wanted to do something for Draco, to mark this experience as something different to any he'd ever had before. This moment felt huge; if he got it right then he knew he and Draco would be just fine. To get it wrong could possibly mean taking steps back, a return to the prickly defensiveness from before.

Rolling back towards Draco, he gently touched his face just above his eyelids. Draco understood and shut his eyes, the lids fluttering as he fought the urge to open them again. Harry smiled weakly and then leant over to gently kiss him, noting how Draco jerked fractionally in surprise and then relaxed again, kissing Harry back.

A part of him thought that he should have let Draco power through the moment so he could be the one in control. He'd willingly bet that before, Draco had never been the one in control of his encounters, had never dictated who did what and when. He'd been a plaything for men more powerful than he was, and Harry hated them all fiercely for what they'd done. But no, if Draco had just gotten Harry off then it would still have been Draco doing something for someone else. Harry wanted to change that, and the only way to do that was be the one in control, but in control in a completely different way to what Draco was probably used to, if his fear of being touched and grabbed was anything to judge by.

Harry pulled his mouth away from Draco's and gently kissed down his neck to his collarbones, shivering as Draco gasped quietly into the darkness. Harry remembered the first time he'd slept with another man, the way he'd been able to do nothing but lie back and feel completely overwhelmed by what was happening, the guilt and pleasure and joy that had all twisted inside of him. He was still thankful to this day that his first experience had been as such, with someone who had taken the time to take care of him.

Harry's mouth travelled lower, across Draco's chest in a silent plea for forgiveness. A shaking hand reached out to brush the side of his face, and he wondered if Draco were thinking the same thing.

The hand fell back against the mattress and Draco shifted slightly, a squirm that could have been uncomfortable or wanting, Harry didn't know. All he knew was that his own prick was begging for attention; fully erect inside his underwear and aching for the feel of Draco's long, slender fingers on him. His head was spinning with lust; he couldn't believe that Draco were letting him do this, letting him get close, and parts of him just wanted to rush and take as much as he could right away.

Placing a gentle hand on Draco's hip, Harry continued to kiss lower and lower, across Draco's stomach which tensed and un-tensed like a butterfly flapping its wings, jittery and unconscious. Harry wanted to make more of the moment, to kiss all the way down Draco's thighs and back up again, to roll him over and kiss down his spine and the backs of his legs, to reduce him to a quivering wreck who could only remember Harry's name and nothing else. However, as he kissed lower on Draco's abdomen and felt damp hardness prod against the underside of his chin, all thoughts of being seductive were lost.

Harry ran his hands up Draco's thighs and felt them twitch under his palms. Still, Draco didn't stop him or try and shy away, and Harry couldn't believe it. Draco was _hard_, he was aroused by Harry and what he was doing and that had to mean that Draco wanted him too-

Unable to deny himself any longer, Harry skated his hand over Draco's hip and gently reached out to brush his palm over Draco's erection, closing his fingers around the shaft. The feel of Draco's hard cock in his hand turned him on nearly as much as the sharp intake of breath that Harry heard from further up the bed.

"Harry…" he heard whispered, Draco's voice breaking in a way that sounded like he'd given in. Harry's pulse surged inside his body, knowing that Draco was giving in to him, _for_ him.

Harry pressed a moist kiss to Draco's stomach in reply, before lowering his head and pressing another right to the head of Draco's prick. Draco gasped and his hand flew down to touch Harry's hair, fingers darting back and forth jerkily as if he couldn't decide what to do.

"Don't, don't go anywhere else," he panted, the words tumbling over one another. It took Harry a moment to realise what Draco was talking about, but when he did he nodded his assent.

"Okay," he whispered, understanding that to go any further would be too much for Draco right now. In truth he didn't mind; the thought of having to remember how to give a blowjob _and_ have sex after almost four years without was a little disconcerting.

Draco's fingers finally settled on his head, pushing through his hair and gently touching his scalp. The sensation made him shiver, and he licked his lips unconsciously before leaning back down to take the head of Draco's prick into his mouth, sucking gently and holding it steady with his hand.

Draco cried out weakly and Harry's prick jerked in response. He'd expected Draco to be quiet in bed for some reason, and to hear him responding was amazing. He bobbed his head, sucking a little bit harder and revelling in the taste and smell that flooded his senses. His whole body ached with desire; it had been so long since he'd been as close to another person, and the fact it was Draco…it just made it more meaningful. Draco wasn't going to have gone anywhere in the morning. Draco wasn't going to brush Harry off, or have a panic attack because Harry had kids. This was the only barrier left between them and a decent relationship and it was falling as if it had never been an issue.

Swirling his tongue around the head of Draco's prick, Harry used his hand to explore the rest of him. Draco's cock wasn't huge by any standards; by what Harry could tell it was probably a bit shorter than his own, and felt to be roughly the same thickness. Unbidden, an image of Draco pushing his prick into Harry's arse flashed behind his closed eyelids and he shuddered, unable to do anything but wonder how it might feel.

He felt a second hand join the one that was resting lightly against his head, and after a moment of hesitation they both fisted in his hair, clutching onto thick black strands. Draco was breathing in and out heavily, tiny gasps of pleasure escaping his mouth every time Harry tongued at his slit or sucked particularly hard. Harry felt dizzy with not breathing properly, determined to make Draco come, holding his breath in his chest in order to hear every moan and hitch in Draco's breathing.

Draco's legs moved, one pushing against Harry's thighs where he knelt next to Draco's thigh, bent over his crotch. Harry swallowed a moan of his own as he realised that Draco was spreading his legs, his hips jerking in tiny little thrusts as he slowly started to unravel in Harry's hands. Harry doubled his efforts, using his fingers to work the lower half of Draco's prick, silently willing him to come.

The only warning Harry received before Draco came was a deep gasp not so different from all the others. His hips shifted minutely and then he went still, filling Harry's mouth with warm, bitter liquid as his body fell over the edge into pleasure.

Trembling, Harry didn't think twice before swallowing, pulling back and resting his head against the top of Draco's thigh to catch his breath before crawling back up the bed. Draco's fingers remained threaded into Harry's hair as if guiding him back to where Draco needed him to be and when they were once again face to face Draco pulled him down into a kiss, shaking breaths whispering across Harry's lips.

"Okay?" Harry whispered into the kiss.

Draco pulled back enough so that he could speak. "Of course I'm okay, you complete and utter idiot," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "What kind of stupid question is that?"

He kissed Harry again, and this time it felt different in some way Harry couldn't quite pinpoint. Draco gently pressed his mouth to Harry's, breathing out through his nose and it tasted almost _confident_, assured in a way he hadn't been before. The hesitance was gone, the desperation was gone. He moved his hand to stroke his fingers across Harry's cheek and even though his fingers were still trembling the gesture held none of his previous awkwardness.

Almost overwhelmed by the change, Harry laughed softly, catching Draco's hand and kissing his fingers over and over. Draco frowned up at him, confused.

"Stop being weird," he insisted, cheeks going pink again when Harry didn't stop kissing him. "You're an idiot."

"Stop trying to act like you still don't like me," Harry replied with a smile, Draco's fingers still held pressed against his lips. "No-one believes it, not for a minute."

"Arsehole," Draco scowled, and then moved quicker than Harry was expecting, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders and pushing him over onto his back, rolling with him so Harry found himself looking up at Draco's less than impressed-face.

"I can't believe you're already looking mad at me after that," Harry said, and saw the corner of Draco's mouth twitch as he tried not to smile.

"Just shut up and lie still," Draco said, shifting to the side and propping himself up on an elbow, forearm resting on the pillow next to Harry's face. Harry opened his mouth to speak but the words were lost as Draco reached under the duvet, hand trailing over Harry's abdomen and ghosting across his prick, still trapped in his underwear. Harry drew in a sharp breath, eyes going wide.

"You don't have to," he breathed, even as he felt himself growing hard again, pressing against the tantalising touch of Draco's fingers.

"I want to," Draco replied, his eyes flickering over Harry's face. "Just don't…just let me do it, okay?"

Harry wasn't going to argue, though it did feel strange to be lying back and doing nothing. He wasn't used to Draco taking the initiative in any context, but he wasn't going to begrudge him the change; he liked Draco most when he showed a hint of self-confidence, when he acted naturally around Harry and wasn't afraid of how to behave or when to let his guard down. It wasn't as if Harry wanted Draco to be his old-self, he just wanted him-

"_Oh," _he gasped as nimble fingers slipped under the waistband of his underwear, wrapping around his dick and sliding up and down as if getting used to the feel and size of him. All coherent thought fled and all he wanted was more, harder, faster, the need to get off greater than his desire to savour the moment.

He made to reach for his underwear, frustrated and wanting to be as naked as Draco was, but before he'd managed to close his fingers around the material Draco let go of his prick and slapped his hands away sharply.

"Do I have to tie you down?" he said crossly, and Harry's throat went dry. "Just let me do it, I'm not an idiot."

He grabbed the bottoms of Harry's underwear and yanked them down, Harry lifting his hips slightly to help. He was breathing in heavily through his mouth as Draco pulled them away and off, pushing the duvet back in the process. Harry resisted the temptation to put his glasses back on; Draco was kneeling by his hip and Harry knew if he had his glasses on he'd be able to see every detail of his body, to commit the image to memory for safekeeping.

Draco leant back down again, stretching his body out alongside Harry's, once again propping himself up on his forearm. He brought his face close enough to Harry's so that Harry could see him just fine, see the look on his face that told him that Draco truly liked this, liked being in control for once.

Draco leant down so his mouth brushed Harry's. "Je me sens en sécurité avec toi," he whispered, the words barely audible, and then he was pressing his mouth to Harry's and he was jerking Harry quickly, his hand moving up and down in a way that made Harry's eyes roll back.

"Fuck," he whined as Draco stopped running his hand up and down, only to squeeze the head of Harry's prick between his fingers, pushing foreskin back and thumbing at the head. Harry couldn't keep his hips still; they jolted forwards in a silent plea for more. Draco gave it to him; alternating between teasing the head of Harry's dick and working his fingers up and down the shaft.

Harry was going to come, and soon. He could feel it rising in his gut, curling around his spine and catching in the back of his throat. He gasped and Draco brought their faces back together again, hot breaths on Harry's face, mouths almost touching as his hand went lower, brushing over Harry's balls and rolling them in his palm, fingers exploring as much as they were teasing.

"Either go one way or the other," Harry gasped, his back arching as he shifted, trying to find the touches that would hit home. "Just – fuck, I need-"

Draco drew in a sharp breath at Harry's words. Hand now trembling slightly, he moved further back and gently touched his fingertips to Harry's perineum, before losing his nerve and quickly moving back to take his prick in hand, jerking him roughly and with just the right amount of pressure.

_Maybe next time, _Harry barely managed to think just before Draco squeezed the head of his dick and he was coming, crying out brokenly as come painted Draco's still moving fist and Harry's tensed abdomen.

Draco let him go too quickly for Harry's liking, but the soft kiss that he pressed to Harry's lips eased the disappointment. He raised a hand to card through Draco's hair, kissing him back. This kiss was different again; it felt like a promise.

"I would have waited years for that," he murmured against Draco's mouth, and felt Draco smile in return, just before he rolled away to fetch his wand, casting cleaning charms over the both of them. Harry wrinkled his nose; he much preferred a warm, damp flannel to clean up with and had been looking forwards to the intimacy of washing each other down. Oh well, he'd just have to wait until next time.

"No you wouldn't," Draco said matter-of-factly. "You're noble but you're not that noble."

Harry laughed softly. "For your information I have incredible self-control and restraint. I can go without for ages."

Draco yawned, settling down at Harry's side with his head on his shoulder. "That's not incredible self-control, that's called having kids."

Harry snorted with laughter. "Touché," he replied, pressing a kiss to Draco's forehead, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Dare I ask what's brought on this turnabout in character?"

"No," Draco replied drowsily, slipping a leg over one of Harry's. "Classified information."

"Arse," Harry murmured, and felt Draco shrug.

"Takes one to know one," he breathed, clearly already on the way to sleep. He was breathing deeply and evenly and Harry had never felt so content in his life. His body was still tingling but he knew that it was more than just post-orgasm related bliss; it was because Draco was there with him, sweaty and sated and trusting in Harry more than Harry suspected he'd trusted anyone. Pulling the duvet back up around them and smiling ruefully at how Draco never seemed to get hot in the night, he breathed out deeply and was asleep within moments.


	25. Chapter 25

_**AN:** So basically I had to move house rather sharpish, and the wonderful people from a certain internet provider can't possibly get to me to install a phone line until the 17th, so I've been without internet since I moved. This chapter is dedicated to Oakstone730 and RockLifeDude - I found a way! (also known as a cafe with free wi-fi)._

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><p><strong>Chapter 25<strong>

The warm touch of lips against his cheek drew Harry into consciousness, cosy and content in his bed. He shifted sleepily, turning his face in search of a kiss and was rewarded with a gentle press of lips against his own. He could feel warm skin pressed against his and shifted towards the body, trying to twine their limbs together. The lips smiled against his before they pulled back and away.

He kept his eyes shut even as he felt the mattress dip and shift then settle, not awake enough to work out what was going on. It was only when he rolled over to reach out for Draco and found nothing but empty bed did he force himself to open his eyes.

He reached for his glasses and managed to get them onto his face, thankfully without poking himself in the eye or knocking them onto the floor first. Blinking hard, he looked up to see the room empty and the door wide open, meaning Draco had obviously got up and gone somewhere. Probably to the bathroom, Harry thought as he laid back, pushing his glasses up and rubbing his eyes with his fingertips.

Very aware that he was completely naked, Harry smiled to himself and breathed out deeply as he remembered the events of the night before. God, the feel of Draco underneath him, and then the sensations of Draco's hands on his body…Harry shifted lazily under the blankets, feeling the slide of cotton on his bare skin and shivering happily. He didn't have any idea what had happened to Draco to cause such a change in behaviour, but he wasn't going to complain about it. It might have been getting out of that situation at the flat safely, it might have been Harry looking after him yesterday. He might have been bitten by a Nargle for all Harry bloody knew, but at the end of the day they'd moved on with their relationship in a positive direction and that was all he cared about.

He tried to be patient and wait for Draco to come back and join him in bed, but when ten minutes passed and Harry was still alone, he resigned himself to getting out of bed. He grabbed his tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt and tugged them on, still unable to direct his thoughts anywhere other than what they'd got up to the night before. The memory filled him with warmth and he couldn't help grinning as if he were seventeen and had just had sex for the very first time. He definitely hadn't been as exhilarated waking up after his other encounters with men; mostly it had been logical thoughts about how to get home without being seen and fervent prayers for a hot shower. It wasn't that he hadn't liked it; it was just infinitely better knowing that Draco was still here with him and wouldn't become nothing more than a memory.

Wondering if a morning-after with Draco would be more or less award than a morning-after a one night stand, Harry left him bedroom in search of Draco, finding it hard not to skip or whistle as he did. He briefly popped his head into the lounge to say hello to the boys who were still all in their pyjamas and playing raucously, jumping from sofa to sofa with various toys held aloft.

He didn't stop to play, despite James's plea that he pick up a transformer as he was outnumbered by the dragons of Al and Scorpius. He promised to come back later, and then headed to downstairs where he could hear the noise of the radio drifting up from the kitchen.

He spotted Draco instantly from the doorway; he was standing on the other side of the kitchen, near the kettle with his elbows leaning on the worktop next to a pit of tea, his spine a graceful curve under the thin T-shirt he was wearing. He was staring contemplatively out of the window, lost in thought and the morning sunlight was shining off of his hair.

Harry looked around and realised that James must have declared himself in charge of breakfast again. On the table was the evidence: three empty bowls, discarded spoons and a few leftover owl-crispies. There was a carton of orange juice still out, sitting directly in a patch of sunlight, and Harry hoped that it hadn't been out too long. Shaking his head in fond amusement, he stepped into the kitchen to grab the juice and return it to its rightful place in the fridge.

Harry didn't speak; he didn't feel there was any need. Draco obviously knew he was there, having straightened up the moment Harry had entered the room. He didn't turn around to say hello, just shifted his weight from one foot to the other and reached out to fiddle unnecessarily with the teapot.

Harry walked over to where Draco was standing, feeling secretly thrilled that Draco had apparently gotten up to make tea, hopefully for them both. Feeling bold, Harry stepped up behind Draco and slipped his arms around his waist and pressing his mouth to the back of Draco's neck.

"You were meant to stay in bed, git," Draco murmured. "If you were going to get up anyway I would have sent you for tea."

"Had to see it with my own eyes," Harry said seriously, laughing when Draco pinched at his hands in retaliation. "Thank you."

Draco sighed, the sound exaggerated and a little disdainful. "You're not going all Hufflepuffey on me, are you?"

Harry grinned against the back of his neck. "After last night you bet I am."

Draco laughed at that, a short, sudden huff of sound. Harry gently squeezed him, nudging the back of Draco's ear with his nose and feeling the scratch of his earring. "What?"

Draco shook his head, biting his lip. "I just – I didn't even think about it this morning," he admitted, sounding somewhere between guilty and surprised. "I just…"

Harry pressed his mouth to Draco's shoulder, eyes open and thoughtful. He didn't know how to react to that really; the first thing he felt was a blow to his pride, a swift take-down because here he was thinking that it had been amazing, and Draco had already all but forgotten it had happened? Well, fuck.

He made to move back, not sure what else to do, but Draco's hand grabbed his forearm, holding it in place across his middle. "Not because of you," he said. "Because I'm so used to not thinking about it. I – I liked it with you."

The warm bubble returned to Harry's chest and he smiled, resting his chin on Draco's shoulder. "Alright. Think about it now then."

Draco reached up to swat at him and Harry guessed he would be rolling his eyes. "Right now?"

"Yeah," Harry said, drawing Draco closer again. "Humour me. I've never had anyone to talk to in the morning about the night before."

Draco frowned. "You were married and have two kids. There must have been at least some mornings after the night before, unless you two slept in separate rooms and only had sex when you wanted to produce Potter-spawn."

"Oh, har, har," Harry replied dryly. "You have a way with words. Well yes, but me and Gin never really had the morning after talks. Never talked about sex."

Draco sniggered and Harry resisted the urge to hit him. "Didn't light her knickers on fire, then?"

Harry drew back indignantly. "No need to be such an arse about it."

Draco sighed and turned around in Harry's arms, leaning back against the worktop and placing his hands on Harry's cheeks. "Don't be embarrassed. Doesn't matter if you didn't fire up the ladies, you seem to have found your calling in sucking cock."

A shocked and delighted laugh tumbled out of Harry's mouth, and he clamped his lips together, trying to act stern and not give away how amusing he'd actually found that ridiculous comment. "For your information, mister know it all, there has only been one lady so that's not a fair study."

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Though you are pretty good at sucking-"

"Alright, alright!" Harry laughed, cutting him off. "Shut up before James comes down and hears you. I've done enough explaining this week without adding that to the mix."

"You just can't take a compliment," Draco said, jabbing Harry in the chest with a finger before turning around to pour the tea. "Get off, you'll make me spill it."

Harry obliged, letting go of Draco and stepping back, slipping up onto the table and leaning back on his hands. He was secretly pleased with how the morning was progressing; he liked Draco most when his confident streak slipped through and he stood up to Harry as an equal, as a partner in the relationship. There were odd moments in which Draco could say something that cut more than Harry expected, but it didn't appear to be malicious in any way; in all honesty, Draco didn't even seem to know he was doing it. It kept Harry on his toes at any rate, and at least Draco let Harry sling a few insults back without storming off in a strop.

"Here."

Harry looked up as Draco held out a mug of tea for him, glancing up towards the ceiling as they heard a particularly loud shriek and thud, followed by muffled laughter.

"Scorpius has been good for them," Harry said, and Draco raised both his eyebrows in question, sipping at his tea. "Before they were having a bit of a rough patch. James wouldn't come over, they would bicker all the time, arguing about which one got to go where. Jealous of each other, over-protective, assuming that they had to be apart."

"Why?" Draco asked, looking genuinely interested.

Harry shrugged. "Alice, I think," he said. "Ginny and Neville's daughter," he explained at Draco's questioning look. "I don't think they knew how to deal with it."

"Then why would they deal better with Scorpius?" Draco asked with a frown. "You literally make no sense."

Harry laughed. "I don't know, I'm not an expert. Maybe they like him so much because he's blond and pointy."

Draco scowled at him. "He is not pointy," he said sternly, and then grinned. "You're getting confused with the reasons why you like me."

"Maybe I like you being blond and I like you despite you being pointy."

Draco's mouth fell open in a perfect picture of affront, and Harry couldn't help but laugh. He reached out with his free hand to gently take Draco's chin in his fingers. "You've grown into that chin of yours."

Draco batted his hand away. "Yeah, well you've not grown into that stupid fat head of yours," he managed. "You stupid head."

Harry laughed even harder. "What are you, twelve?"

"I'd thought we'd established I was a twat when I was twelve," Draco glared. "Apologise for calling Scorpius pointy."

"I apologise for calling Scorpius pointy," Harry said, smiling fondly.

Draco still eyed him suspiciously, though the glare faded. "You mean it? He has enough issues without you calling him pointy."

Harry set his tea down and reached for Draco again. "He's a gorgeous kid, you prat. He looks just like you."

"And I've grown into my chin?" Draco asked, finally putting a hand on Harry without the intention of causing pain or mischief. He placed his palm on Harry's chest, his thumb stroking the cotton just above Harry's nipple. Harry fought the urge to shiver and press closer, trying to concentrate.

"Yeah," he said, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of Draco's cheek; he had a funny feeling he'd get a slap if he kissed his chin. "You have."

He felt Draco smile and was about to move so he could kiss him properly when the floo flared to life behind them, the flames bright and green. They both turned to look at the fireplace, Harry's heart leaping as a familiar face swam into view.

"Were you two snogging?" Ron asked, wrinkling his nose. "Mate, warn a bloke. Did no-one ever tell you about floo-privacy?"

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed happily, stepping away from Draco and going to crouch down beside the fire. Draco stepped back and picked up his tea, turning to look out of the window once again and clearly leaving Harry to deal with Ron. "What are you doing here?"

"Seeking refuge," Ron said, looking pained. "The women are ganging up on us," he said, and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Even Lavender's here and she won't shut up about her new man," he said. "She's driving me mad and she's only been here five minutes."

Harry grinned. "Is that a plea for sanctuary?"

Ron nodded fervently. "If you were ever my mate, please get me out of this mess."

Harry laughed, and glanced to Draco. Draco was still looking out of the window, drinking his tea and looking like he hadn't heard a word. Harry suspected that he had heard taking into account how close he was standing, but considering there had been no objections he suspected that Draco wasn't completely adverse to the idea.

"Alright, come on."

Ron's face visibly brightened. "Brilliant! We'll be right through!"

"Hang on, we?" Harry asked, alarmed, but Ron was already gone, leaving Harry talking to nothing more than quickly fading flames and soot. He turned to Draco who was now definitely listening, facing Harry and looking worried.

"We?" he asked. "Who is he bringing?"

Harry winced. "Neville, probably," he said, trying to keep his tone casual.

Draco went a shade paler. "Longbottom?" he said, and then swore. "I better make a hasty exit."

"What?" Harry frowned, climbing to his feet. "Why? Look, if me and Neville can get still along, then you-"

"Don't be thick," Draco interrupted. "How many times did I make fun of his parents?" he asked, and Harry paused in place, feeling helpless.

"You made fun of mine as well," he tried to say, and Draco's face darkened.

"Don't even-" he began fiercely, putting his mug down yet again. "Me and you – that's different. It's always been different, so don't just – Me and Longbottom don't owe each other anything, there's nothing but ill will there. I was terrible to him – all my so called friends were even worse. You weren't there that year."

"You said yourself that we were past all that," Harry challenged. "We're not school kids anymore."

"Harry, I can't," Draco said tightly, stepping away from him towards the door. "I won't keep you away from your friends, but I-"

He broke off as the floo flared into life again, green flames roaring in the grate. He sent Harry one last desperate look and then turned on his heel and left. Harry sighed but knew that for Draco to stay would have been more than he could have expected from him. It was just hard; with him and Draco getting along so well it was easy to forget that he wouldn't automatically get along with everyone else.

His attention was pulled away from thoughts about Draco as Ron appeared in the fireplace, clambering out with only a modicum of dignity and complaining about the step in the brickwork like he did every time he came through the kitchen. Sure enough Neville climbed out moments later, brushing himself down and beaming at Harry. Harry couldn't help but smile back; it was good to see the pair of them even if the timing and Draco's reaction left a lot to be desired.

"Harry! Where have you been?" Neville laughed, walking over and giving Harry a hug. "Why aren't you dressed? It's nearly half ten you know."

"Had a lie-in," Harry laughed in reply, pulling back. "James has designated himself in charge of breakfast so Al didn't wake me up whining about being hungry."

Neville laughed. "God I know, he got choco toads all over place the other day, Gin wasn't best pleased. I just let him get on with it."

"How're you anyway, mate? Coping with being a full-time dad instead of part-time?" Harry teased.

Neville laughed. "Just about. It was hardest when Al and James left to come here; I instantly thought I'd got some time to myself and then of course Alice starts up. How bad is that, forgetting she was there?"

"Well, you've not dropped her yet so you're doing well," Ron remarked, pulling out a chair with a loud screech. "Get the kettle on, Harry. Man cannot live without beer or tea."

"It's half ten and you're thinking about beer?" Neville asked, sounding amused. He followed suit and pulled a chair out, flopping down into it and looking very pleased to be there.

"Hey, I said or tea," Ron shrugged, and they all laughed.

Harry padded over to the kettle, tapping it with his wand to fill it back up before turning it on. "If you'd been here about ten minutes ago you would have got Draco making tea," he said, and heard Ron snort with laughter.

"I like my tea not poisoned, thank you."

Harry turned around and fixed him with a stern look. "Behave. He's already got a complex about everything that happened. Just because you now find it funny, doesn't mean he does."

Ron clamped his lips together as if trying not to laugh. He and Neville exchanged a knowing look, nodding over-exaggeratedly at one another.

"Ooooh, look at Harry jumping in to defend his boyfriend," Ron teased in a sing-song voice. "Harry has a boyfriend."

"You're not funny, you know," Harry said, but he was laughing anyway which probably completely undermined his argument. "Shut up."

"Leave him alone," Neville said mildly, the smile still evident in his tone. "I think it's great."

"Let me remind you that you just put Malfoy and great in the same sentence," Ron chipped in, but he winked at Harry to show he didn't mean it. Harry had known anyway; Ron had been his biggest supporter throughout this mess and didn't think he'd change his mind and start hating Malfoy now.

"Well, Gin says he's nothing like what he was in school," Neville said, as if that settled the matter. "That's good enough for me."

Harry smiled to himself as he summoned clean mugs, knowing that Ginny's word was always enough to convince Neville. It wasn't that Neville wasn't his own man; it was just clear that his entire world revolved around Ginny, and her word was more important to him than anything.

"So, why isn't Malfoy still here?" Ron interjected, looking around the kitchen as if Draco could be lurking in a corner somewhere. "Where's he gone? He was here when I called, unless you're harbouring another skinny blond bloke."

Harry turned to lean back against the worktop with a half-hearted shrug, scratching the back of his head and trying to think of an excuse to explain where Draco had gone. He gave up pretty quickly, deciding to just be honest. "He made a tactical retreat," he said, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "Wasn't sure how everyone would react. Think he's not feeling great about the things he said to you," he said apologetically to Neville.

"Well, he shouldn't," Neville said with a frown. "But that was a long time ago."

Harry nodded. "I know. Most of time he's fine. But I don't think he likes to be reminded of the person he used to be, if that makes sense? Since he had Scorpius he's completely different."

Ron wrinkled his nose. "You make it sound like he gave birth to him."

Harry snorted with laughter. "He might as well have done. He's done every other bloody thing for that kid."

"You're disgusting."

"The point is," Neville interjected before a potential bickering match could escalate. "He's grown up since he had a kid? Stopped being such…"

"A twat?" Harry offered with a grin and a raised eyebrow. "That's what he says he was."

Neville smiled sheepishly. "Well, yes, but I feel a bit bad being horrid about him when you're with him…"

"You're not being horrid. You're stating valid concerns. Believe me, I've been through them all myself," Harry said with a self-depreciating laugh. "It's easy to get past it all when you meet Scorpius. Kind of makes the things that happened not seem to matter."

"Scorpius?" Neville asked cautiously, and Ron cackled with laughter.

"That's what I said!" He laughed. "Poor kid."

Harry bit back a laugh of his own. "It suits him," he shrugged, adding milk and sugar to the teas as he knew they liked.

"Little Slytherin in the making?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "Not the foggiest. I think James might be though."

Ron looked aghast but Neville just nodded ruefully. "I think you might be right. He's too clever for his own good, some days."

"Tell me about it," Harry smiled, pouring the tea and passing them over. "That's a while away, though."

"Closer than you think," Neville said, taking his mug of tea with a grateful nod. "Four years?"

"God, don't," Harry protested. "I've got to get Teddy settled first."

Ron snorted. "Good luck with that. Has he met Draco and Scorpius?"

"Yep," Harry said, wandering over to the pantry and rummaging around for some biscuits. "He turned himself blond for the entire day."

More laughter met his words and he turned back into the kitchen, a packet of biscuits in hand. He walked back to join the others, tossing the packet to Ron who promptly tore open the top and pulled out three biscuits.

"So where has Malfoy gone?" Neville asked, reaching in to take a biscuit. "Ron said he was here."

Harry shrugged. "Either back to bed or to find the kids."

"Do you want him to be here with us?" Neville asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't really mind. It's a bit soon, really. I don't really blame him, but yeah. In an ideal world we could all get on and hang out. Wishful thinking, maybe."

Neville nodded thoughtfully. "And he was down here just before we got here? And left because we got here? Because he's worried about everything that happened in school?"

Harry sent Ron a slightly bewildered glance. Ron shrugged back, nonplussed. "Yeah," Harry said. "About sums it up. He didn't object when Ron said he wanted to come over, but he did kind of get worked up about you," he admitted.

"Alright," Neville said, standing up and pushing his chair back. He leant over to clap Harry on his shoulder. "Be right back."

Before Harry could stop him, Neville turned in the direction of the kitchen door and strode away with confidence.

"Where are you going?" Harry called, feeling alarmed.

"To say hello to Al and James," Neville called back innocently, and Harry turned to look at Ron, mouth hanging open.

"Is it me or did that sound like he was actually going to go and find Draco?" he asked faintly.

Ron shrugged and took another biscuit. "Probably. You know Neville, kills one possessed snake and suddenly everything's a challenge."

Harry groaned and ran his hand over his face, looking back towards the doorway and wondering whether he should intervene. "Think I should go after him?"

"No," Ron replied immediately. "If Malfoy's going to kick off on one then I'd much rather be well out of the way. It's Neville's stupid idea, let him deal with it."

Harry nodded, though wasn't entirely convinced, mostly because if anything untoward happened he was pretty sure that Harry would be the one dealing with the aftermath, not Neville. "I just hope Scorpius is with him," he muttered. "There'll be less shouting if the kids are about."

"There you go then," Ron said bracingly. "Perfect little peace-keepers."

Harry laughed. "You wouldn't say that if you'd seen the fight they had the other day. James nearly flattened Al."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "I'm starting to think you don't love me anymore, you never tell me anything."

Harry shot him a reproachful look, tempered with amusement. "Oh yeah, like you'd appreciate me calling just to say that the boys had had a scrap," he said pointedly, and Ron laughed, conceding the point. "I've been a tad busy anyway, what with the boys and Teddy," Harry continued wearily. "Not to mention running away from a gang on organised criminals on Knockturn alley, explaining to my kids that I have a boyfriend and that yes, that means that I like boys and not girls like normal blokes."

Ron stared at him for a long moment. "I don't know which bit to get you to explain first," he said blankly. "How about running away from criminals? That sounds slightly dangerous. Have you told Gin?"

Harry snorted. "No," he said. "Not a big deal anyway. We went to go fetch some of Draco's stuff from his flat and it was warded. We got away alright, just shocked us a bit."

"Wait, wait, wait," Ron said, looking bewildered. "Someone was after Draco? And you were with him?"

"No," Harry said impatiently. "The flat was warded. I checked Draco for hunting hexes, he's completely clean. So we figured that it was just the flat. I mean, we went out to the park the other day and it would have been dead easy to grab him there but nobody did."

"Christ," Ron said, eyebrows raised. "And you'd gone so long without any death-defying adventures."

Harry laughed. "It wasn't death defying in the slightest," he said, though he didn't admit that it had certainly felt like that at the time. "A couple of stunners and that was it."

Ron whistled between his teeth. "Still sounds pretty mental."

Harry smiled, rubbing his jaw. "Not the most mental thing that has happened this week, believe it or not."

Ron nodded, munching thoughtfully on a biscuit. "You mentioned the 'B' word?" he ventured, and Harry nodded.

"That I did."

"I told you so," Ron said promptly. "Knew you had a thing for him, ever since school-"

"No you did not!" Harry interrupted indignantly.

"Well, either way, you've ended up with him and I said you would," Ron said dismissively. "How's it going?"

"Surprisingly well," Harry admitted. "So far, anyway."

"And you've told the kids?" Ron asked. "All how many of them?"

Harry laughed softly. "It was because of them that we decided to make it official. They were confused about it all and it wasn't fair on them to say Draco was just a friend when there was quite clearly something going on. I mean, Teddy had told James that Draco was my boyfriend."

"What's that, Teddy sticking his nose into someone else's business?" Ron asked with a grin and Harry laughed. "Well, as long as you think it'll work out alright. That's a lot of pressure to put on the both of you. I mean, what happens if you fall out? Has he got anywhere else to go?"

Harry shrugged, reaching out to run his thumbnail along the varnished edge of the table.

"What?" Ron asked, sounding suspicious. "What's that face for?"

"Something's different with me and Draco," Harry admitted, not meeting Ron's gaze. "Good different. Before it was all careful and hesitant and like he didn't really know how to be around me. Like we shared a room and kissed and stuff but it was still…like he was on the defensive."

"And now…?" Ron asked cautiously.

"He's just…I don't know. Different. Not half as awkward. Talking to me like we're equal, not like it's one of us in control and the other going along with it."

"You done anything different?"

Harry bit his lip, feeling a flush warming his cheeks. Ron was an incredibly supportive friend but Harry didn't think that would extend to putting up with Harry talking about his sex life in detail. As such, he just shrugged.

"Not really," he said. "It's just like it's all suddenly fitted into place, you know?"

"Not really," Ron echoed with a small smile. "But you're the one crazy enough to fall in love with Malfoy, not me."

Harry froze. "I'm not – it's not that I'm-" he struggled to say, feeling his cheeks reddening even more than they had at the thought of sex. The word love echoed in his mind and he faltered, unable to form a coherent thought because suddenly all he could think about was Draco, arguing with him and kissing him and holding onto him for dear life. All he could see was Draco holding Al, talking to James and playing with Scorpius. All he could remember was Draco hovering above him in the dark, mouth a hair's breadth away from Harry's.

"As if you looked so worried," Ron said, sounding amused. Harry jerked his head up to look at him. "That feeling of everything slotting into place? Never considered that you'd fallen in love, mate?"

Harry went to argue but he remembered the strange expression on Draco's face that had mystified him yesterday, the way Draco had looked at him like he'd only just noticed Harry, the way he'd shown himself at his most vulnerable, let Harry touch him and touched him in return. But that didn't mean that they were….didn't mean that Harry loved him. Didn't mean that Draco loved him in return.

His eyes went wide behind his glasses as he suddenly remembered something Draco had said yesterday. He remembered Draco climbing into bed with him, looking scared and vulnerable, and the words he'd said…

'_Read into it what you will. And for god's sake please read something, because you can fuck off if you think I'm saying it out loud.'_

…Ah.

Ron laughed at what must have been a look of utter shock on his face, but Harry was saved from answering by the sound of voices on the stairs. Someone was laughing – Scorpius and Al, Harry recognised. He could hear James and Neville too, talking happily together and coming closer and closer.

Harry barely had time to register the overwhelming realisation that he'd fallen in love with Draco before James bounded into the kitchen, followed closely by Neville. Harry's thoughts were distracted back to the issue of what the hell Neville had done in regards to Draco, whether he'd gone to find him to talk to him or if he'd left well alone and only gone to find the boys. Harry met Neville's eyes in a question but Neville answered only by smiling.

Harry was about to open his mouth and ask what had happened when the words were stolen from his mouth; he looked up just in time to see Draco walk into the room, albeit with some difficulty owing to the fact that he was carrying both Al and Scorpius. Al was on his back piggy-back style and Scorpius was clinging to his front like a baby monkey, and both kids were laughing hysterically. Draco was smiling but his eyes were red as if he'd been crying, and again Harry wondered what on Earth Neville had said to him to upset him yet still get him to come downstairs. One of Draco's arms was wrapped around Scorpius and the other was pretending to swat at Al, who was holding on tightly around Draco's neck and laughing so hard his face was red.

Eyes locked on Draco, Harry stood up without even realising what he was doing, feeling his heart threatening to burst inside his chest.

Was Ron ever going to get tired of being right? Harry thought dazedly as he stepped over to Draco, who stopped trying to grab Al and hitched Scorpius up, looking almost shyly up at Harry.

"Not a word," he said quietly, and Harry nodded, reaching out to take Scorpius who went willingly to him, sitting on his hip with one arm curled around Harry's neck and his other hand reaching out towards Draco.

In that moment everything seemed to make perfect sense. He had Scorpius in his arms and Al was clinging so tightly to Draco it looked as if he'd never let go, and Harry knew exactly how that felt because he wanted to do exactly the same. James wandered up and leant against Harry's side with a whispered request for a biscuit, and Harry couldn't think of anything in the world that he'd want more than the five of them together.

"I've got the biscuits, James," Ron's voice called and Harry blinked, coming back to himself and remembering that they weren't alone. He swallowed, looking at Draco and wishing that he could just tell him, wishing that he could kiss the breath out of him and promise never to go anywhere-

"Biscuits!" Al chirped, kicking his legs back and forth and making Draco wince. "Put me down."

"Put me down, what?" Harry interjected and Al grinned at him, resting his face on Draco's shoulder.

"Put me down please?" he whispered and Draco smiled faintly, letting him slither to the floor. Scorpius twisted around to watch him and Harry set him down too, watching as he climbed up onto the same chair as Al, looking at Ron with shy eyes.

Harry turned his attention back to Draco. "Okay?"

Draco smiled faintly again, folding his arms across his chest. "Don't be such a Hufflepuff," he said. "But yes."

Unfolding his arms again, he stepped up to Harry and quickly kissed him on the cheek, his fingers trailing over Harry's stomach. "I'll stay. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry murmured in reply, and then Draco was gone, pulling out a chair next to Al and Scorpius and reaching for a biscuit.

Someone cleared their throat and Harry looked to Ron and Neville who were both fighting back laughter, Ron making kissy-faces in Harry's direction. Harry felt himself blush and flipped them two fingers behind the kids' backs, knowing full well they were laughing at how bloody besotted he seemed.

Well they could fuck off, Harry thought on impulse as he pulled out the chair at the end of the table next to Draco, sliding onto it and slipping his hand onto Draco's knee under the table. At first, Draco made no indication that he'd noticed but then he quickly slipped his own hand over the table to briefly squeeze Harry's fingers.

"So, you're looking better," Ron commented, and Harry turned his eyes to Draco, who looked a little startled at being addressed, and also a little wary.

"Yeah," he said, reaching up to twist one of his earrings between his fingers. He opened his mouth again as if to speak but thought better of it. Harry didn't know if he were resisting the urge to say something mean or if he genuinely didn't know what to say. Harry found he didn't want to wait and find out.

"How's work?" he asked Ron. "Busy with the summer rush?"

Ron nodded, reaching out for another biscuit. "God yeah. Summer holidays are the worst. I'm lucky Verity's so good with sales."

Harry chuckled. "Whereas George gets distracted demonstrating and inventing?"

Neville laughed and Ron nodded. "We're not allowed in the back room at the minute. I've no idea what he's doing but there's pink smoke coming from under the door at random intervals."

"Pink smoke?" Neville asked warily.

Ron just shrugged. "It's best not to ask, or he thinks you're actually interested and you end up being a test subject."

Harry smiled and quickly turned to look at Draco as Neville and Ron carried on chattering about the shop. Draco was leaning with his elbow on the table and chin cupped in his hand, and seemed to be alternating between listening and watching Al and Scorpius. He didn't exactly look comfortable but he was there and behaving himself, which was more than Harry could have hoped for.

Movement along the table drew his attention; James pushed away from the table and left the room, presumably to go back and play. Al immediately followed, and Scorpius glanced to Draco before dashing after them.

"Christ, it's like he's a miniature version of you."

Draco looked up again at the sound of Ron's voice, and Harry saw the flicker of pride crossed his face before slipping back into something more neutral. "He's a nicer miniature version of me," he said, and Ron laughed.

"What's it like dealing with James and Al, then? From a more neutral perspective," he asked. "Neville says they're angels. Harry says they're most definitely not."

Ron laughed as Harry and Neville both protested the summary of their opinions on the boys. "They're not that bad," Harry protested, looking to Draco for support. "They have their moments, is all."

"They've been great," Draco said suddenly, cheeks going pink as attention turned back to him. "Making Scorpius feel welcome. He's never had any real friends, so…"

He trailed off, looking around and then away, uncomfortable once more. It wasn't just Scorpius who had never had real friends before, Harry thought to himself, though was wise enough not to say it out loud.

"Has it just been you two?" Neville asked, voice gentle.

Draco nodded. "Until now," he said slowly, somewhat cautiously. "It's taken some getting used to."

Ron snorted. "I'll bet. How old is the kid, by the way? Scorpius?"

"Only four," Draco said simply. "Though he probably acts more mature than I do on occasion."

Harry bit back a laugh, as did Neville. Ron smiled, narrowing his eyes slightly at Draco. "Am I allowed to laugh when you make a joke? Or are you going to hex me?"

"Why don't you give it a go and find out?" Draco said, and Harry laughed this time, unable to help himself. Draco shot him a tired smirk and Harry felt Draco's fingers wrap around his own under the table once again. He smiled quickly at Draco and then turned back to Ron and Neville and the conversation.

Draco didn't let go of his fingers, and Harry felt warmth stealing through his chest. Maybe he didn't really care that Ron had once again been able to tell about how Harry was feeling before Harry had even registered the thought; this being in love business wasn't that bad all in all, so he supposed he could let it slide just this once.

The conversation turned to Quidditch, and Harry had to fight to keep the smile that kept threatening, knowing that he didn't want to have to explain why he was suddenly grinning like a loon. He couldn't help it; to realise he loved Draco was one thing, but to suspect that Draco loved him in return was almost overwhelming.

Well. He certainly hadn't banked on that when he'd dived in to rescued Draco from the Hightops mess, not that he'd be complaining anytime soon.

Harry smiled to himself, reaching out for a biscuit and turning back to the conversation around the table, gently moving his hand so he could lace his fingers through Draco's. With the kids happy, his friends at ease and Draco by his side, he really didn't think he could ask for anything more.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

"Here."

Harry passed Draco the glass he'd brought from the kitchen, the ice-cubes at the top clinking gently against the sides of the glass. Draco looked surprised, lifting his head up from where it had been resting back against the sofa cushions.

"For me?"

"Well I'm not just giving it to you to hold," Harry said, and Draco pulled a face at him, taking the glass and eyeing it curiously.

"What's in it?"

"Taste it," Harry said simply, sitting down on the sofa beside Draco and looking around for the television remote. Draco eyed the drink warily for a few moments longer and then took a tentative sip, looking surprised again as he swallowed.

"Ginger?"

Harry nodded, finally locating the remote under a cushion and sitting back. "And tonic water and lemon."

Looking pleased, Draco took another sip, settling back onto the sofa and pulling his feet up. "And is this an attempt to distract me from the fact you've got rid of all the alcohol in the house?" he asked lightly, tilting the glass back and forth slightly so the ice-cubes swirled around.

"A bit," Harry admitted. "And I thought you'd be sick of tea by now."

Draco's mouth twitched in a weak smile. "I did think it would be nice to have a glass of wine this evening," he said somewhat regretfully, looking down at the glass in his hand.

"Sorry," Harry said simply, and Draco nodded. Harry assumed he understood so didn't press the issue; his actions in removing all the alcohol had been clear enough to interpret so it was up to Draco to respond. Whether it would be with acceptance or not, Harry wasn't sure yet.

Thankfully, all Draco did was sit quietly, sipping his drink. The affront that Harry had sort of expected was absent; maybe Draco knew that it was in his best interests, and wanted to be rid of his stupid drinking habits after all. Harry couldn't help but steal glances at him as he flicked through the television channels, wondering what he was thinking.

"Thank you for today, by the way," he said casually a while later, finally settling on watching the highlights from the cricket, something he'd completely forgotten to watch so far this summer.

Draco pulled a face, screwing up his nose. "It was all kid and Quidditch talk," he said offhandedly. "That's easy. I can put up with that."

"I think you quite liked it," Harry challenged with a grin. "A chance to talk about Scorpius and bicker with someone other than me? Sounds perfect for you."

Draco snorted with laughter, his expression one of grudging acceptance. "I suppose," he conceded. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. They're not so bad. But don't tell them I said that."

Harry bit back a smile. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Draco turned his face towards Harry, as if knowing exactly what Harry was thinking. "I thought…" he tried, and then heaved out a sigh. "I thought they'd be horrid to me about it," he admitted. "About what I've done."

"They wouldn't," Harry reassured him. "And not just because I wouldn't let them."

Draco smiled faintly again, holding the glass between both of his palms. "I'm glad," he said sincerely, if with a little difficulty. "I think it'd be harder to move on if everyone else insisted on going on about it."

"I understand that," Harry said softly, reaching out to lay his hand on Draco's ankle. Draco didn't push him away, which Harry took as a good sign. Draco fell silent again but Harry didn't object; Draco was slowly opening up and offering conversation, so he'd happily let him do so in his own time and at his own pace.

"Were the boys all asleep when you checked?" Draco asked softly, eyes on the television.

"Yeah, fast asleep," Harry replied. "James included. Fell asleep with a book again, I think he was trying to stay up until his bedtime."

Draco nodded, looking tired himself. He blinked slowly, eyes still on the television and a small frown creasing his brow; Harry took that as a response to the cricket rather than annoyance at anything that had happened that day. He supposed it wouldn't make much sense to anyone that didn't know the rules or the concept of the game.

"Longbottom's changed," Draco said suddenly after a while, his eyes still fixed on the television and countenance pensive. "A lot."

Harry turned his head atop the cushions of the sofa to look at him. "So have you," he said simply.

"I know that," Draco said, blinking and then turning to shoot Harry an exasperated glance. "Believe it or not I don't feel the compulsive urge to talk about myself all the time."

Harry offered him an apologetic smile, and didn't comment on how a younger Draco would have liked that very much. "Go on," he said, hoping Draco would continue with the conversation.

"Well, he was never the most…confident of people, was he?" Draco ventured. "And now…"

"Well, things worked out well for Neville," Harry shrugged. "He came into himself during the war, and a lot of people who would have laughed in his face suddenly realised he was a lot stronger than they'd given him credit for."

"I saw him kill that snake," Draco said carefully, and Harry gently stroked his thumb over Draco's ankle.

"He says that's his third proudest moment in life," he said, and Draco turned to look at him, perplexed.

"Third?"

"Yeah. Marrying Ginny was second, and holding Alice for the first time without dropping her is first."

Draco smiled at that, shaking his head in amusement. "That sounds more like the Longbottom I know."

Harry smiled faintly, too. He itched to tell Draco how proud he was of him; giving Harry's friends the time of day and genuinely making an effort to be civil was a real accomplishment, but Harry sensed that it wouldn't be sensible to make a big fuss out of it. He refrained from mentioning it, but couldn't hold the next question back; one which had been burning on the tip of his tongue all day. "So, what did Neville say to you earlier?" he asked, going for casual and hoping he'd hit the mark.

Draco paused, eyes on Harry's hand on his ankle. "None of your business," he said quietly. "All you need to know is that it's fine."

"Fine?" Harry asked, hoping for some expansion on the single word.

Draco didn't oblige. "Fine," he said firmly. "I'm not telling you," he added. "So you can either argue about it some more, or pick your battles and move on to something else."

Harry eyed him contemplatively, weighing up the merit in Draco's words. He sorely wanted to know what had been said considering it had led to Draco being able to tolerate Harry's friends for the day, much more than Harry had anticipated or hoped for. However, Draco's tone didn't really brook any more arguing.

"Fine," he said, affecting a pout and crossing his arms across his chest. "Leave me out, why don't you."

Next to him, Draco laughed. "You look just like Al when you do that," he said, somewhere between amused and exasperated. "Pack it in."

Harry couldn't keep up the façade; a smile broke through his pretend-sulk, widening as he felt Draco's fingers gently loop around one of his wrists, pulling his arms loose again.

"You're not actually six, you know," Draco said, and Harry felt his stomach swoop as Draco lifted his hand to press his palm to Harry's, lacing their fingers together.

"A lot of people say that to me," Harry commented.

"Well then, that's proof enough that you're acting like a tit," Draco replied matter-of-factly, and Harry huffed with laughter.

"You know me too well already," he said, turning to look at Draco, who looked surprised and then oddly pleased at the comment.

"Yeah, I reckon I do," he said softly, and then to Harry's joy, he leant over to put his glass carefully on the floor near the sofa and then moved around to lean against Harry's side, pulling his arm over his shoulder. He shifted around a bit to get comfortable and then settled, placing a cautious hand on Harry's stomach.

"I'm glad you're comfortable enough to do stuff like this now," Harry murmured gently, leaning his head against Draco's.

Draco let out an annoyed huff. "Do you have to commentate on everything? I thought the action was enough."

Harry bit back a smile. "Sorry," he said. "Bad habit. I just can't believe it some days, considering how much you seemed to hate me when you first got here."

"I didn't hate you," Draco said quietly, and his thumb moved slightly to trace along the cotton of Harry's shirt, a small but welcome gesture. "I was just in over my head, and I'd…I'd always sort of thought about you and it just seemed like fate was being cruel on purpose…" he trailed off, his thumb stilling. "Wow," he said in mild surprise. "Are you sure there's no booze in that drink?"

"Not a smidgen," Harry said, blinking slowly and relishing both the sensation of having Draco close and the implications of him talking so freely.

"Oh," Draco said. "Must be my extraordinary powers of conversation and my uncanny knack for being open and sociable."

Harry snorted with laughter. "Steady on a bit."

Draco didn't reply, but his thumb resumed the gentle stroking of Harry's shirt. "Did you hate me?" he asked quietly after a while.

Harry shook his head. "No," he said truthfully. "I got angry with you, but that was because of the situation and the fact you were being so bloody difficult," he said, gently running his hand over Draco's shoulder to take some of the bite out of his words. "But you're pretty far from difficult now, so it's okay."

Draco nodded against Harry's shoulder. "I kind of see this as a fresh start for me, now," he said with a bit of a struggle, the words tinted with discomfort. "Now I see things between you and me are different."

"Very different," Harry murmured and Draco smiled weakly.

"Behaving like a twat was kind of my defence against them," he said cautiously. "Like I had no choice, but I could choose to be as awkward and belligerent as I damn well wanted. Not that it helped a lot of the time," he added somewhat bitterly.

"Why not? You being purposefully awkward is enough to send anyone round the bend," Harry frowned.

"Oh thanks," Draco said flatly, and then paused. "I was scared. Underneath it all, I was still scared."

Harry didn't reply. The weight of Draco's admissions hung in the air between them like a tangible force, promising and threatening in turn. Harry did the only thing he could think to do and drew Draco even closer, holding him carefully, trying to find the balance between being comforting but not being too forceful and making Draco panic.

Draco exhaled shakily and then his body seemed to go lax in Harry's arms, his weight more pronounced against him. An arm tentatively moved, draping across Harry's middle in a loose embrace, tightening after a few long moments.

They sat still together for a long while, the television a quiet backdrop of noise to their gentle breathing. Harry wanted to stay there forever, with Draco curled up safe and content by his side. It felt like he'd never wanted anyone else ever in his life, every other person who had shared some part of him was forgotten, eclipsed by his feelings for Draco because Ron had been so right – Harry loved him, loved him so much he felt like he could be with him forever and it wouldn't be long enough-

Draco shifted in his arms and Harry leant back a fraction to allow him to move. Draco moved his face against Harry's shoulder, and then gently, carefully leant in and pressed a kiss to the skin at the bottom of Harry's neck.

Harry's heart slammed up into the base of his throat, his pulse quickening. He drew in a deep breath and then cursed himself for reacting, and then his mind went blank as Draco did it again, his mouth slightly open and warm against Harry's skin.

The mood abruptly changed. Draco shifted again in Harry's embrace and Harry swallowed thickly, over-aware of how their bodies were touching and suddenly feeling very warm. The sensations heightened as Draco's hand left Harry's stomach to reach up and gently pull the neck of his T-shirt down, pressing a kiss to Harry's collarbone and making him shiver.

"Draco?" his voice came out rough and cracked, instantly giving away Harry's reaction to the kisses, as if his body hadn't done so already.

"You'd do anything for me, right?" Draco said, mouth still hovering close to Harry's skin and words coming out in a tumbled rush.

"Well, maybe not anything, that could leave me liable to all sorts," Harry replied, knowing he was babbling but completely unable to stop. "Most things. Almost anything. Within reason. Or maybe beyond reason, I'm not sure yet."

He actually felt Draco smile weakly against his skin, swallowing thickly and supressing the urge to tip his head back and groan as Draco shifted and gently kissed his adam's apple.

"I want to be free from that mess," Draco said quietly, and Harry ran a hand up his back as Draco pulled back to look at his face, eyes meeting Harry's for a fleeting moment. It was Draco's turn to swallow nervously, eyes darting away from Harry's face. "Things work between us and I don't know why, and it's like I see you differently to everyone else now…" he breathed in and out deeply, and then met Harry's eyes with what must have been a tremendous amount of courage.

"Let's go to bed," he said, voice shaking with something Harry couldn't pinpoint.

Harry frowned, momentarily thrown. "But – we were talking – do you not like being down here?"

Draco stared at him as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "For fuck's sake, if you ever choose one moment in your life not to be completely dense, please pick this one."

Harry opened his mouth to argue at the exactly same moment his brain caught up. "Oh," he managed weakly. "I'm with you now."

Draco laughed, but the sound was a little strangled. "Glad you could join me."

He looked down away from Harry's face, looking very much like he regretted what he'd said. Harry was still processing the suggestion – he'd honestly thought that Draco had just been suggesting a change of scene, not to go to bed for _sex_.

"I'll take that as a no then," Draco said lightly, but Harry could feel the disappointment rolling off him, the awkwardness that came with him thinking he'd misread the situation, the blow to his pride that had barely began to recover as it was.

"No, it's not a no," Harry interjected quickly, tilting Draco's chin up so he could see him. Draco looked up at him, eyes wide and grey. He really was…god, Harry didn't have a word for it. He wasn't handsome by typical standards; he was too full of sharp angles for that, but there was something about him that Harry wanted, wanted so badly he could almost taste it.

"I want you," Harry whispered, and Draco's eyes went wide. "More than I bloody know how to deal with. I just – I thought you wanted to take it slow?"

"I don't want to be held back," Draco said, averting his eyes from Harry's. "If I'm free from that mess, I want to be free."

Harry understood, though it didn't completely convince him just to throw caution to the wind and go along with it despite how much he wanted to. "You don't have to prove anything to me."

"Maybe I want to do this for you," Draco challenged, showing the first hint of confidence so far. "Maybe I want to do this for me. Maybe me doing this makes me feel like I'm in control of my life for once."

The flash of determination in Draco's expression went a fair way to toppling the last of Harry's rational thought and resistance. He reached for Draco, slipping his hand onto his cheek and pulling him close, brushing their mouths together. Draco made a noise in the back of his throat but didn't pull away, fingers slipping onto Harry's shoulder and clenching tight as they clung to each other, breathing heavily into each other's mouths.

Harry could barely think. Part of him wanted to just go for it, to kiss Draco until they were both dizzy and breathless, to take him up to bed and do everything he'd barely dared dream about. The part that was holding him back was trying to make itself heard over his arousal and need, reminding him of what Draco had been through and how rushing something like this could seriously fuck up this tenuous relationship that they were building -

But the decision was being made for him; Draco was pulling back and away and climbing to his feet, reaching for Harry's hand and pulling him up off the sofa with gentle, coaxing pressure, the plea clear on his face. Harry allowed himself to be pulled up and led from the room, his whole body feeling like it belonged to someone else. He felt distant, separated, unable to rationalise why Draco suddenly wanted this from him, unable to deny the arousal that was curling through his body like he was seventeen and completely ruled by his desire.

He managed to collect himself as Draco pulled him into his bedroom – their bedroom – shutting the door behind him and then turning to Harry, his expression somewhere between panicked and defiant. His chin was tilted up slightly but had a tremble to it that gave away his fear and apprehension.

"Draco," Harry said softly, reaching out to trace his fingers across Draco's cheek. His mind cleared enough for him to calm down marginally, to see how vulnerable Draco looked, to see how desperate he was.

"We're a couple, right?" Draco said thickly, reaching up to catch Harry's hand in his. "This is what couples do."

"This is me and you," Harry said gently stretching out his fingers so they brushed Draco's skin again. "Don't do this because you think you should be doing this."

Draco nodded. "Duly noted," he said, and then his hands were on Harry's hips and he was pressing close, his cheek brushing Harry's and his breathing heavy on his skin.

Harry could only helplessly hold him close, wondering why he was objecting. If Draco said he was okay with it, then surely Harry should take his word for it? Why was he making such a big deal out of it?

_Because you love him and don't want to hurt him_, a voice in his head said, just as Draco moved his head to press a kiss near Harry's ear. God – what should he do? Fuck, he was twenty-six; thinking about sex shouldn't be as complicated as it was when he was eighteen, but he had to do right by Draco, no matter what his dick might want. If he said he didn't want to do it then he'd upset Draco, but if he did then there was the possibility that-

_Sod it,_ was the last thought Harry had before he captured Draco's mouth a kiss, gentle yet demanding. Draco made a noise in the back of his throat, a breath caught in desire and surprise. Harry controlled the kiss with a hand on Draco's neck, his thumb brushing his jaw as he coaxed Draco's mouth open under his, gently touching Draco's tongue with his own.

Draco kissed him back immediately, the passion and intent catching Harry off guard; in that moment it felt like Draco had no fears, nothing from the past holding him back. The kiss grew deeper soon enough, hands moving across skin and clothes, breathing heavier and more ragged, motions quicker and less tentative. Harry had to take a steadying step back, balance lost as the kiss grew more forceful, both of them swaying slightly as they pushed back and forth, desperate and needy.

Harry felt Draco's hand slide under the bottom of his T-shirt and across his the overheated skin of his back, and then Draco was grabbing hold of the hem and pulling it up, a clear indication for more. Harry didn't stop to think. He let go of Draco to pull his shirt over his head, throwing it aside and hurriedly straightening his glasses. Chest heaving with breath, he looked at Draco for a heartbeat and then pulled him into his arms again, kissing him hard. For Draco's part, he couldn't seem to stop himself frantically running his hands over every exposed patch of Harry's skin, as if he needed to in order to survive.

"I want you to touch me," Draco whispered as they pressed together, non-stop movement of bodies and limbs as they fought to get as close as possible, to hold and to be held. "I didn't think I'd ever want anyone to touch me again, but you-"

He kissed Harry again, reaching down to grab hold of the hem of his own shirt. Buoyed by Draco's words, Harry reached down with fumbling fingers to help him pull it over his head, and then they were pressed together skin to skin, the sensation almost overwhelming. God, they'd never touched like this before, not with such desperation and lust.

Harry took a step back as Draco pushed against him, arms wrapping around Harry's neck and giving Harry space to run his hands up Draco's back and down his spine, just as he's ached to do for days. Balance still not found, Harry took another step back and then realised that Draco was pushing him on purpose, edging them both back towards the bed-

One more step and they were there, staggering awkwardly and tumbling down onto the sheets with little or no finesse. Draco's shoulder knocked Harry hard in the chest and Harry felt his knee connect with Draco's thigh, Draco letting out a gasp in response. Harry hastily pushed himself up onto an elbow, looking down at Draco who was flat on his back, face flushed and eyes wide.

"Okay?" Harry asked breathlessly.

Draco swallowed thickly, taking in a few deep breaths. Harry reached out to smooth Draco's hair back from his forehead, watching as Draco took another breath in and out before calming down and nodding in reply.

"Are you sure about this?" Harry asked, concerned. "How – I don't know how much you're okay with-"

Draco glared up at him, panting. "I hope that's noble Potter's one and only appearance tonight?"

Harry glared right back. "No, actually. I mean it – I don't want you freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out now," Draco insisted. "I didn't freak out last night."

"You wanted to take it slow," Harry reminded him again. "I just think-"

Draco shut him up by putting his hand over Harry's mouth. It was warm and slightly sweaty and Harry had to resist a wild urge to lick it. It was hard for Harry to think; Draco's body was pressed right against Harry's, bare from the waist up and skin oh-so warm. "I trust you, you great scar-headed git," Draco whispered fiercely. "As long as you're still going to be there in the morning, just shut up. It's not that I don't like sex - it's just been a while since I did it on my terms, and had a chance to properly enjoy it."

As Draco lowered his hand away from Harry's mouth, Harry felt the last of his resolve crumbling. He couldn't deny that he wanted it, and any last-minute objections that he had were sounding feeble, even in his own mind. Draco had made it clear he wanted it, and in a small way Harry understood that for Draco to do this because he wanted to do it would be like claiming back some of his life that the gang had taken. The last remaining thought was did they actually dare? To sleep together would make everything so final, would confirm their relationship as permanent and serious – though Harry supposed they'd already achieved that by somehow accidentally falling in love with each other.

"Stop being such a Hufflepuff and do it," Draco whispered. "For me. Please."

Harry shut his eyes as Draco brushed his mouth against his, a fleeting touch that he was sure was designed to coerce him into agreeing, and damn it all because it was working. He wanted it – god he wanted it – but what if Draco had some flashback-based freak out whilst they were having sex? They'd both be mortified, Harry was sure of it. Besides, he was nervous enough about the possibility of having to take the lead, without adding worry about how Draco was coping to the mix…

"How about you do it?" he whispered, and Draco's eyes went wide.

"You what?"

"You heard me."

Draco stared at him with wide eyes. "You'd do that?"

Harry laughed, reaching up to smooth Draco's hair back from his forehead with his palms. "Why wouldn't I?"

Draco looked somewhere between confused and embarrassed. "I don't exactly know," he confessed. "I just assumed…"

"That I'd want to top?" Harry asked.

A cleft appeared between Draco's eyebrows as he thought. "No," he said slowly. "I assumed that I'd have to bottom."

"I don't mind either way," Harry told him. "And maybe if you top then you can…you know. Be in control. Set the pace and do what's best for you, so I'm not worrying I'll freak you out."

Draco nodded. "As long as you're sure."

"I hope that's noble Draco's only appearance tonight," Harry said, and Draco pulled a face at him.

"Shut up for once in your life."

The bite was taken out of his words as Draco leant down to kiss his mouth, and then dragged his mouth down across Harry's jaw, nudging his head to the side so he could kiss up and down his neck. Harry drew a sharp breath in, tipping his head back against the pillows. Draco lifted his head away and Harry cracked an eye open to see him looking down at Harry in what could have been surprise.

"Don't look so confused," Harry said. "You're good at that."

Draco smiled, bright and easy. "Yeah?"

Harry nodded, and Draco's smile widened for a moment and then faded. "It's not that I've had a lot of practice," he said awkwardly, the words tumbling over one another. "I've never really…I was always just…"

"Hey," Harry interrupted softly. "We said we wouldn't talk about it, yes? This is between me and you, not anything else. New chapter."

Draco looked at him for a moment longer, as if he were trying to ascertain whether it was okay to continue. Some part of Harry wanted to ask Draco if he were scared, to deliberately goad him into continuing, but he didn't really think that would work as well as it would have done when they were fifteen.

Instead, he craned his neck up to kiss him briefly, and then dropped his head back, turning it to the side. "More, please."

He felt Draco's chest vibrate against his as he laughed, and then came the wonderful sensation of Draco's mouth open against the skin of his neck. He couldn't help but briefly wonder if Draco had done this with anyone else, if he had been paid to do it for anyone else, but he pushed the thought away. He couldn't think about that, especially not now, not when Draco was in his arms and kissing his neck with sloppy enthusiasm, leaving cool wet marks in his wake.

"God," he breathed, "I missed this."

"No you didn't," Draco said, dipping his head to press a kiss to the hollow between Harry's collarbones. "You've never had me before. You didn't know what you were missing."

Harry laughed breathlessly. "Never thought I'd miss your ego," he laughed. "Come here."

He reached for Draco, taking him in his arms and gently pulling him down onto him. He wanted to watch Draco's face some more but Draco resumed his attentions on Harry's neck so all he could do was let his eyes flutter shut again, allowing himself to enjoy the attention.

Far too soon for Harry's liking, Draco pulled back and away, leaving Harry aching for more, body relaxed but still feeling tight with anticipation. He felt a knee bump his thigh and opened his eyes to see Draco moving back, knees either side of one of Harry's legs and hands reaching down to unbutton his trousers.

Unable to help himself, Harry propped himself up on one elbow and reached out to help, wanting to be the one undressing Draco. However, before he could, Draco quickly reached out and took his hand, leaning down to quickly kiss Harry's knuckles before pushing it back towards him. Harry understood and lowered his hands to let Draco do it himself, grateful that Draco had managed to convey the message without panicking or running off. He turned his attention to his own trousers, undoing them quickly and pushing them down as far as he could with one of Draco's knees between his thighs.

His plan had been to move so he could rid himself entirely of his clothes, but the moment Draco rolled to the side and finally managed to push his trousers down, Harry lost the ability to co-ordinate his hands with his brain. He watched, pulse quickening, as Draco stripped off the rest of his clothing and then turned to Harry, face flushed.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, cheeks a brilliant pink and his legs shifting as if he couldn't decide whether to pull them up or leave them stretched out alongside Harry's. Harry hoped he wouldn't give in to the urge to cover himself up; he understood Draco's insecurity but didn't want to pass up an opportunity to look at Draco's naked body.

"And you call me an idiot," Harry replied, hand slipping onto Draco's shoulder as he leaned in to kiss him again. Draco kissed him back, his fingertips brushing against Harry's jaw and his legs brushing against Harry's.

Harry had honestly forgotten how much co-ordination was actually required during sex – he was trying valiantly to both kiss Draco and get his trousers and underwear down and off, somehow without having to open his eyes and also without kneeing Draco in the process. Thirty seconds of inelegant fumbling and finally he was free. Relieved, he kicked away the offending articles of clothing, shifting forwards slightly and groaning into Draco's mouth as their bodies pressed together, chest to chest and hip to hip.

He felt Draco draw in a shuddering breath, but other than that there was no reaction. Harry was thankful; he knew that he had to go at Draco's pace, but the thought of backing off now was almost unbearable.

"Were, were the boys definitely asleep?" Draco panted against Harry's mouth, managing to get the words out between kisses. "I'd hate to have to – oh – explain this one."

Reluctantly, but seeing the merit in Draco's words, Harry pulled away from Draco long enough to grab his wand, casting a locking charm and a one-way silencing charm on the door.

"Is the silencing charm really necessary?" Draco asked a little breathlessly, sinking back down onto the pillows and looking up at Harry with clear eyes.

"I don't know," Harry shrugged, reaching up to carefully take his glasses off and set them aside with his wand. "You tell me."

Draco shrugged as well, averting his eyes for a fleeting moment. "I don't know," he said indifferently, his tone suddenly changing from the playful breathlessness from a moment ago into something flat and dull. "I'm normally drunk and thinking about galleons."

Harry stilled in response to the bland words, fighting away the mental pictures that they evoked against his will. He couldn't manage it; all he could picture was Draco drunk and being led somewhere by someone he didn't know, a controlling hand on his shoulder or waist. He could imagine him being ordered to take his clothes off, could easily imagine the tears that might have come afterwards when Draco was finally alone. He blinked down at Draco's slightly blurry form, trying to curb the selfish jealousy that was now twisting its way up through his stomach, the part of him that hated the fact he still appeared to be sharing Draco with all the ghosts from his past. The silence stretched out, the mood turning cold and closed as the seconds ticked by and neither of them spoke.

"If you don't want to-" Draco began, breaking off mid-sentence. He swallowed thickly and even without his glasses Harry saw the regret on his face, presumably because of what he'd said. Silence fell again, and Harry watched Draco twisting the edge of the sheets between his fingers, a gesture as nervous as it was awkward.

"Why do you have to remind me?" Harry finally asked, reaching up to gently place his palm on the side of Draco's cheek. "Why do you remind yourself?"

Draco shook his head. "I don't fucking know, alright?" he said, tone somewhat agitated. "I just…"

He trailed off, leaving Harry feeling uncertain and a little cold. He was forcibly reminded that this was uncharted territory for the both of them, and he still couldn't help but worry that a step in the wrong direction would set them back to how things used to be, only a relatively short time ago.

All of a sudden it just seemed so _unfair _to Harry_._ His happiness always seemed so precarious, dependent on things out of his control, things that he could do nothing about no matter how hard he tried or fought. Breathing out deeply, he sat up, resting an elbow on his knees and reaching for his glasses. He held them in one hand, the other rubbing tiredly at his face.

"I am sorry," Draco's voice came from behind him, sounding small. "For this. For everything."

Harry paused in place, something stirring in his chest at the words. He turned around and saw that Draco genuinely looked sorry, his blurry form miserable and ashamed, staring down at the bedcovers, tense and unhappy. Harry blinked a few times, and suddenly he made his mind up. It wasn't all down to Draco – Harry had to play just as big a part in this if he wanted this relationship to go where he wanted it to. Leaving it to Draco to set the pace was a great idea in theory, but what would then happen when Draco got to a point where he couldn't articulate what he wanted, couldn't move past what had happened to him? As much as Draco had to lead, he also needed Harry there to guide him.

In one swift movement, Harry tossed his glasses aside and turned back to Draco, catching the surprise on his face for a fraction of a second before he leant in and kissed him, hard enough to make Draco's breath catch in his chest.

"No more talking," Harry said firmly, a hand on Draco's hip and his eyes locked on Draco's. "Come on - we've probably been dancing around this since we were sixteen. This is about me and you and none of that other bollocks. You said you didn't want to be held back-"

He paused long enough to reach across Draco to the nightstand, pulling the drawer open and rummaging around in it. Half beneath him, Draco was looking dazed and unguarded, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. Stretching that bit further, Harry felt his fingers brush what he was looking for and grabbed hold of the familiar tube that he normally kept well hidden in the back of the drawer.

"So don't hold yourself back," he finished, pressing the tube into Draco's hands. "Man up and do it."

Silence met his words, and he held his breath and waited to see how Draco would react. He hoped his words would spur Draco into action, to make him push forwards and forget all about everything else that had ever happened, but he knew that Draco could easily take offence and storm off, leaving Harry alone and cursing himself for pushing too hard.

Draco glanced down at the lube that Harry had given him, and then back up to his face. His brow knitted in a frown and Harry tensed in anticipation, but then Draco blew out a breath and the frown disappeared.

"Have you ever asked for anything nicely in your life?" he said, one eyebrow lifting in question, the expression so familiar and welcome that Harry nearly laughed aloud in relief.

"Please man up and do it?" he suggested, and Draco's mouth curved in a smile.

"That'll do," he whispered, and then he was kissing Harry like that moment had never happened, like they'd not even stopped to draw a breath. Draco's hands were on his skin again, sliding over his arms and across his sides, tracing over his back and making Harry ache for more.

Harry didn't say a word more; there was no need. Not when Draco was pushing him onto his front and kissing down the back of his neck with the same eagerness that he'd shown earlier. Harry couldn't keep his body still; his shoulders circled and his hips shifted against the mattress, his whole body alive and craving Draco's touches.

Draco didn't disappoint. His hands traced down Harry's sides and his kisses moved lower, down Harry's spine, between his shoulder blades. The touches alternated between heavy and light, some of them so quick that they were barely felt, and Harry felt Draco's knees knock against his thighs more than once as he shifted. Draco's mild clumsiness helped lift Harry's spirits; the touches didn't feel at all like ones belonging to someone who did this as a profession. If anything, they felt more like someone who had only done this once or twice in their lifetime; eager but unpractised in taking the lead.

The fact that he knew Draco truly wanted to do this with him made it all even better.

"So, been thinking about this since you were sixteen?" Draco's voice said, low and breathless near his ear, just as Harry felt the weight of Draco's body drape across his back, hands next to his shoulders. He could feel Draco's erection pressing insistently against the back of his thigh and resisted the urge to rub back against it.

"Not quite," he managed. "If I had done, a lot of things would have probably made much more sense."

Draco laughed softly and then pushed himself back onto his hands and knees. Harry regretted the loss of bodily contact only in the time it took Draco to shift down the bed and kiss him in the small of his back.

"Well I have been thinking about this since I was sixteen," Draco said, mouth pressed against Harry's spine, lips warm on Harry's bare skin. "So forgive me if I don't spend too long fucking about over foreplay."

Harry had a smart retort ready to go, but it died on his lips when he felt two hands press against his arsecheeks and the faintest of kisses pressed to his tailbone. His head was spinning and he was so hard he ached, he just couldn't believe that they were doing this, that his mild outburst had actually worked and pushed Draco from a state of frustrated insecurity into confidence-

A groan escaped his mouth and his hips jerked without his permission as he felt Draco's mouth go lower, oh fuck, he'd only ever had this done to him once before and that time he'd be so preoccupied with thinking about cleanliness and when he'd last had a shower, and whether he should be allowing this random bloke to have his face so close to his arse. This time, he found he couldn't care less. Harry was completely sure that Draco would flatly refuse to do anything he wasn't comfortable with, and that allowed him to relax and enjoy the moment.

Draco's mouth moved lower, and Harry could feel the heat from his breath against his skin, and then he cried out as he felt Draco's tongue on him, licking against him in short quick motions that made his limbs shake and his head spin. Unable to help himself, he twisted an arm back and managed to thread trembling fingers into Draco's hair, though not entirely sure if he were doing it to keep him in place or with the intention of pushing him away. Draco didn't stop either way; if anything he pressed forwards harder, his fingertips applying more pressure to Harry's skin.

Harry forgot about everything else in the world; in that moment all he was aware of was his body and Draco's, so caught up in the moment that even the earlier worry vanished. He was thinking of nothing but what was happening in that moment, there and then, breathing heavily through his nose as he felt Draco's hands move, pushing his legs further apart. He could feel sweat in the small of his back, was hyperaware of every muscle in his body, how they moved and shifted against the soft cotton of the sheets, how they responded to every touch of Draco's body.

It didn't last nearly as long as Harry would have liked; in his mind he was already imagining getting off from Draco's tongue alone, having Draco push him all the way with just his mouth. The disappointment faded quickly as Harry felt a hand leave his arse, and then moments later slick fingers were tracing up the inside of his thigh, briefly stroking against his balls before moving higher.

"Okay?" Draco murmured, voice low.

Harry nodded, breathing heavily. "Yeah," he replied, pushing back onto his side so his back was pressed against Draco's chest. Draco didn't object the change of position; he pressed a kiss to the back of Harry's shoulder as his fingers moved back to Harry's arse, and it was all happening so quickly, Harry barely had time to draw a breath before the first finger was pushing into him, too much and not enough all at once.

He could feel Draco trembling behind him but couldn't spare too much thought for how he was feeling; he was far too concerned with himself and the sensations that were assaulting him. It was as strange and uncomfortable and wonderful as it had been every other time he could remember, his body balancing on the line of wanting more and wanting it to stop.

Draco's free hand was gripping onto Harry's shoulder, fingers a sure pressure on his skin as his other hand continued to prepare Harry was measured touches, a second trembling finger joining the first soon after. Harry's mind was racing; he was full of badly concealed anticipation, eager yet nervous to feel someone inside him again after all this time, thoughts tumbling over one another because he couldn't quite believe it was _Draco Malfoy_ he'd ended up in bed with. In the grand scheme of things, that didn't seem all that important; the man in his bed was someone he trusted, someone who trusted him, someone who was willing to be part of every aspect of his life. The name attached to the man didn't seem to matter anymore.

He took a deep breath in through his teeth and forced himself to relax, to stop thinking and just focus on what he could feel. He reached back to place a shaking hand on Draco's thigh, trying to remember how he'd managed to relax before, what he'd done last time to get through this part and find the pleasure in what they were doing.

He felt Draco's fingers leave him and groaned at the loss, shifting impatiently and squirming slightly at the odd sensation left behind, empty and slick and not entirely comfortable. Draco's breath was hot on the back of his neck and he could feel Draco's knuckles brushing against the small of his back, he heard the faint click of a plastic cap and realised what Draco was doing – oh god, Draco really wasn't fucking about with this, was he? Harry was going to have to find some way to relax because he knew he was still tight and tense, and it was either ask Draco for more preparation or just take it-

A hand stole down to his leg and he moved his own out of the way as Draco pulled his leg back, pushing his own thigh forwards slightly so Harry could rest the weight of his leg across Draco's. It helped; as the weight was taken off of his leg he found he could relax himself more, letting his body go lax, hips falling loose. As he sank back into Draco's embrace he felt Draco's erection pressing against his arse, swiftly followed by the thrill of eagerness he'd been waiting for. He could do this, he wanted this.

"Ready?" Draco murmured, and Harry grunted as he felt Draco's thumb toying with his entrance, pressing in slightly and then pulling back, repeating the motion until Harry shifted his hips back in a plea for more. "Was that a yes?" Draco asked breathlessly, the tease evident in his tone and the way he pushed his prick up against Harry's arse.

"You pick _now_ to go back to teasing me?" Harry managed to say. "_Yes._"

"I'll always tease you," Draco said, and then his thumb was moving out of the way and he was pushing forwards, the head of his dick pressing insistently against Harry's hole, resting against him with not quite enough pressure. Harry felt himself trembling, biting his lip so he didn't end up begging, fingers of one hand clenching in the pillow by his head and the other being caught in Draco's, clenching tightly as Draco finally – _finally_ – pushed forwards.

Harry couldn't help but cry out, feeling his body giving way to the pressure, reeling from the burn and the stretch and the sensation of being filled, the shock of penetration holding his body captive, barely aware of the strangled moan that Draco hid in the back of his neck, the fingers around his tightening as much as they could. Panting, he bit back another cry as Draco pushed forwards a fraction more and then pulled back, and _this_ was why he allowed himself to be taken like this, the thrilling feeling of being both powerful and powerless, the way he could let someone else take control but still have such an impact on them. And god, the way it _felt_, the strange pressure that made him ache for more, for harder, for it to never stop.

"Tell me – tell me if it's not-" Draco groaned behind him, the words barely distinguishable. The wreck of a sentence made Harry's heart swell inside his ribcage; with the seven gasped words he was reminded forcibly of everything he and Draco had been through together, the path that had brought them all the way to this point, to a place where they cared about each other probably more than they cared about themselves.

"Keep going," Harry replied, voice breathless and hoarse. "Come on."

With surprising strength, Draco pressed a hand to Harry's hip and rolled them over so Harry was back on his front, legs pushed together with Draco straddling them, pressing forwards into him, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the pillow next to Harry's face. Harry barely had time to draw breath before Draco was pushing all the way into him and then out again, opening Harry's body up with a series of measured and careful thrusts. The first few hurt more than Harry could remember it doing any other time, and again he was struck by the thought that Draco didn't seem as practiced as someone in his position should.

Harry arched his back and cried out as he felt a jolt of pleasure ripple through his hips and to his cock, trapped against the bedsheets. "There," he choked out and then he was lost, Draco picking up the pace and thrusting into him over and over, going quicker and harder as Harry pushed back as best he could. It was too hot and Harry shouldn't have liked the feel of Draco's weight pinning him to the bed, but oh god, this was the part of him that had taken so long to accept, the part he'd tried to drown in alcohol and denial. He no longer listened to the part of him that pointed out men shouldn't be fucked like this, that to let someone take him like this made him weaker. In fact, right now he was doing a pretty fantastic job of flipping two fingers at that old part of himself, because how could he not enjoy this, _fuck_, how could he deny how he felt?

"Harry," Draco breathed, forehead pressed between Harry's shoulder blades. "Oh god, _Harry._"

"Yeah," Harry replied mindlessly, gasping as Draco snapped his hips forwards over and over again. He reached back with a hand to grasp at the back of Draco's thigh. "Come on," he said, the words lost in panting breaths. "Draco-"

As time passed he could hear Draco's breath growing more ragged, his hips stuttering in their rhythm and he suddenly wished that he were on his back, so he could see Draco's face as he came, to kiss him and steal the breath from his lungs-

Draco swore, his voice breaking around the sound, and Harry knew that was it, Draco's hips pushed forwards and stilled, and Draco drew in a breath that sounded like a sob. Draco's fingers tightened and then went lax on Harry's shoulder, drawing in great shuddering breaths.

Harry felt frantic, wound so tight that the thought of not coming was unbearable. In one swift movement, he heaved himself up onto his hands and knees, reaching for his prick. The movement knocked Draco back but he managed to stay inside Harry, his thighs pressed to the back of Harry's, his body curled tight around him, heavy and warm.

"Let me," Draco managed to say, one hand pressing between Harry's shoulder blades as he pushed himself up and the other reaching around Harry's hip, fingers fumbling for his crotch. Harry grabbed it and pushed it back towards his arse and Draco immediately understood. Without commenting, which Harry was grateful for, he slowly pulled his prick free from Harry's body and then immediately replaced it with two fingers, moving them in and out fast and hard.

Oh fuck, that was it. Harry was so close, he felt almost overwhelmed with sensation and emotion. His hand moved quicker on himself, his grip almost punishing, and he cried out as Draco pushed a third finger into him, his orgasm racing through him as if in response, come spurting through his squeezing fingers, leaving him gasping for breath, head spinning and limbs shaking.

They collapsed onto the bed together, breathing heavily. With a noise of protest in the back of his throat, Harry pushed weakly at Draco who grunted in reply and rolled himself away from Harry onto his back. Opening his eyes, Harry saw Draco staring at the ceiling, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. As if he sensed Harry looking, he turned his head to the side, eyes meeting Harry's.

"Don't comment," he said breathlessly. "I don't need this one spelling out for me."

Harry laughed weakly and nodded, though in all honesty he would have had trouble forming sentences anyway. He watched Draco turn his face back towards the ceiling, breathing out deeply through his nose and shutting his eyes. Harry took the opportunity to let his gaze wander down Draco's body, across his chest and the faint outlines of his ribs as he breathed, down his flat stomach to his softening prick. Harry shivered at the thought that it had literally just been inside him, and wondered how much it had meant to Draco. It wasn't a huge sacrifice for him to volunteer to bottom; part of him suspected he sometimes preferred it. Besides, he had always thought that it took more courage to put yourself in that position – and to manage to take it without stopping or having a panic attack – rather than simply fucking another bloke. It was an odd, secret sort of pride that filled his chest every time he let someone take him, knowing he'd been both brave enough to do it, and brave enough to let himself enjoy it.

His eyes drifted back up to Draco's face and he smiled to himself. This definitely wasn't he'd bargained for when he'd stepped in to help but now it seemed like a pretty good deal when he considered all the pro's and con's.

"Would it be weird if I said thank you for that?" Draco murmured, breaking Harry's train of thought. Harry blinked at his blurry form and then reached out to put his hand carefully on Draco's chest. He thought he saw Draco wince but couldn't be sure; he didn't have his glasses on and when he blinked the pained expression had gone.

"Why would you say thank you?"

"For letting me…yeah," Draco cleared his throat, his cheeks a faint pink.

"Well it wasn't exactly terrible on my end," Harry said with a quirked eyebrow. "Not a huge sacrifice."

Draco's mouth curved in a smile, eyes still closed. "I noticed."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Git," he said, and then shifted closer, resting his head on Draco's chest next to his hand and hooking a leg over one of Draco's.

"Don't you want to go clean up?" Draco asked somewhat cautiously, as if he couldn't quite work out what Harry were doing.

"In a bit," Harry said simply, and after a moment felt a hand slide over his own, holding his palm flat to Draco's chest. He brushed his mouth over Draco's skin in a brief kiss, his body slowly unwinding and relaxing.

Neither said anything more; for once, Harry didn't feel any inclination to talk. He didn't open his mouth to comment or question, to check how Draco was feeling, to ascertain if he'd coped. This time round, he knew that they didn't need the words to know everything was okay.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Draco lay quietly, his palm flat on Harry's chest and feeling the gentle rise and fall as he breathed, still fast asleep. Draco had been awake a while but had no intention of disturbing Harry; he was happy to lie there, watching and thinking.

_I don't deserve this, _he thought into the silence of his own mind, but he didn't make any effort to move away. He probably didn't deserve it, considering all that he'd done and the way he'd lived his life. But then again, he'd tried so hard to do his best for Scorpius, tried so hard to do the best he could with the situation he'd ended up in. Maybe he'd paid his dues, and this was his chance to start fresh and actually do something decent with his life.

Either way, it didn't really matter. He had Harry, and he wasn't going to give him up just because of some minor moral conundrum. He would acknowledge the thought, and then listen to the part of him that was pointing out that it was high time something remotely good happened to him, so stop worrying about it.

He breathed out deeply and gently traced his fingers up and down Harry's sternum, shivering slightly as he thought about the night before. Being inside Harry, pushing into him over and over, the feel of Harry's hand reaching back to clutch his thigh, urging him on, to go harder, for more.

Even thinking about it made arousal twist down his spine, thick and warm in his veins. He bit his lip, eyes flickering over Harry's sleeping features. After the year he'd had he couldn't imagine feeling like this again, wanting someone so badly, feeling arousal instead of shame when lying naked with someone.

He still couldn't quite believe that Harry had let him top. In over a year he'd never once been expected to take the lead; both he and whoever he was with had assumed that he would be the one to bottom. But Harry…he doubted the idiot had any idea how huge a gesture that had been, how much it had meant to Draco. Though Draco had begun to suspect that the gesture hadn't been entirely noble on Harry's part, considering how readily he'd agreed to it and how much he'd seemed to enjoy it…

He really was a conundrum sometimes, Draco thought idly. Forever surprising Draco by doing exactly the opposite of what Draco expected. But then again, that was probably down to Draco thinking about him for so long, building a picture of him in his head without any real knowledge to back up the image he'd created. In his mind he'd painted Harry as gentle in bed, taking the lead and treating Draco like he was made of glass. What he'd got was completely different; frantic and a little rough at times, neither of them holding back. It hadn't felt like they'd had sex for Draco's sake last night; it had felt like it was for the both of them, both of them taking something they wanted and needed. It had been a pleasant surprise to say the least, and pretty much a downright shock to suddenly find himself on top of Harry Potter, fucking him into the mattress like it was something they'd been doing for years.

Unable to help himself, he gave into the selfish impulse and leant over to gently press his face into Harry's shoulder, his mouth ghosting over Harry's skin and the taste evoking yet more memories from the night before. He pressed closer, brushing his lips over Harry's neck.

"Good morning to you too," came a sleepy murmur from next to him, and he smiled. Harry shifted and wrapped an arm around Draco's shoulders and Draco shivered happily once more, wondering if Harry truly knew the enormity of what he'd given to Draco the night before, how much difference he'd made.

"You better be actually thinking about last night this time," Harry murmured again, and Draco laughed.

"I am."

"Good." Harry replied simply, breathing out deeply and contentedly.

Draco smiled to himself and resumed tracing his fingers up and down Harry's sternum, over the scar that Harry still hadn't explained. Draco would have pushed for answers, but he had a feeling that the scar was a product of the war, and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear about everything that had happened to Harry in that time. Even eight years on he was only just in control of his own feelings about the war, and hearing about yet more suffering and atrocities might be too much for him to handle. He knew it was selfish, but he also suspected that Harry probably didn't want to talk about it anyway.

"Can I ask you something?" Harry asked, sounding thoughtful.

Draco twisted his head around to look at him, watching Harry blink at the ceiling, looking oddly young without his glasses on. "What?" he asked suspiciously. "I'm feeling far too content to argue with you right now."

Harry laughed softly. "I'll take the risk," he said, and then paused. "Have you actually topped before?"

Draco felt his heart sink. "God, was I that bad?" he asked before he could stop himself. "Well, fuck."

Harry rolled over towards him. "God, no," he said, surprised. "That's not what I meant at all, I just-"

"Felt like insulting me first thing in the morning?" Draco asked, knowing his tone was more petulant than it had been in a while, cringing internally at how it made him sound like a sixteen year old brat.

"No, I was just wondering," Harry said, more patiently than he probably should. "It was great, honestly – but you didn't really seem like someone with a wealth of experience."

Draco went still, realising what Harry was talking about. He fought down the swell of emotion that threatened in his chest, instead trying his very best to stay calm. It had come to the point that he knew he liked having Harry by his side too much to throw it away on a tantrum.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it?" he finally said.

Harry sighed and propped himself up on an elbow. "I don't," he admitted, "but at the same time I do."

"Morbid curiosity?"

Harry shrugged, reaching out to carefully place his hand on Draco's chest. "Something like that."

Draco tensed, expecting pain which didn't come. He stayed still for a few moments and when his chest still felt normal, he breathed out in relief. "I don't want to tell you," he said. "I don't want you to change your mind about me."

"If I was going to, I could change my mind purely on what I can imagine," Harry said simply. "I just – I liked that you didn't seem like…"

"A professional?" Draco said bluntly, and Harry winced.

"That, yeah."

Draco sighed again. "I don't have a wealth of experience," he said. "I rarely did anything whilst sober, and I never topped whilst working."

"What about when you weren't working?"

"A few times," Draco said. "But I was younger. Didn't have a clue what I was doing, really."

Harry smiled weakly at that, a small hitch of the corner of his mouth. Draco could tell he was still thinking, probably about what other awkward questions he could ask, so decided to beat him to it.

"So how many times have you topped?" he asked conversationally, pulling his pillow down and shifting under the duvet, his knees brushing Harry's legs as he did. He felt warm and comfortable and wonderful, and decided in that moment he was never going to sleep in another bed ever again.

"A couple," Harry said evasively.

"As in two?" Draco pressed.

Harry nodded, his cheeks now faintly pink. Draco couldn't help but be amused; for all Harry's insistence that they talked about sex, he did seem to blush an awful lot.

"What about bottoming?"

Harry looked over at him. "Why is it so important to distinguish between topping and bottoming?" he asked. "Sex is sex, right?"

"Some people are exclusive one way or the other," Draco said with a shrug.

"Well we're not, are we?" Harry asked, and nodded when Draco shook his head. "See? Then it doesn't matter."

Draco grinned slyly at him. "It's loads, isn't it? Like fifty times?"

"No!" Harry interjected indignantly, cheeks now definitely a rosy shade of pink they hadn't been before. "It is not!"

"Forty?" Draco asked, trying to keep his expression innocent. "Thirty-five?"

"Four, alright?" Harry said, grabbing Draco's hands and wrestling him onto his back, lying with his body draped over half of Draco's, his hands pinned down either side of his head. "The grand total is four. Well, five now."

Draco replied by kissing him, lifting his head away from his pillow and pressing his mouth to Harry's. Harry made a surprised noise in the back of his throat but then kissed him back, fingers tightening on Draco's. Draco felt Harry's body shift against his and bit back a groan, surprising himself with the desire he felt and already wondering if Harry would be up for another go.

"How about later?" Harry murmured, as if reading Draco's mind. "Not quite up for it just yet. Besides, we've got children somewhere we should probably feed."

Draco groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "And there goes the moment," he said ruefully.

Harry laughed, letting go of Draco's hands and rolling away, swinging his legs out of bed and reaching for his glasses, slipping them onto his nose. "Come on. We're responsible adult-types these days. Can't lounge around in bed all day."

Draco pulled a face, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. "Not entirely sure how that happened," he muttered, and heard Harry chuckle again. He sighed and let his hands fall away from his face, before putting in as much effort as it took to sit up against the headboard. His eyes immediately went to Harry's naked back, in perfect view as he stood there and rooted through the wardrobe. Draco let his eyes drift down Harry's shoulders and back to his arse, feeling a thrill as he recalled how it felt to actually be inside him. Even as he looked he felt arousal flare hot in his groin and hastily lifted his knees under the duvet, before remembering this was Harry he was with so he didn't have to hide it.

"Find me some clothes?" he yawned, stretching his arms out above his head. Harry's reply was to throw a shirt and some jeans backwards towards the bed, and Draco grinned. He could get used to this. "What, no underwear?" he asked, and Harry turned to give him a mischievous smile.

"Get your own," he finally said, turning about and bending down to pull on some underwear of his own. Draco was disappointed only in the time between Harry hiding his body from view and the next words he spoke.

"I was thinking," he said, walking back towards the bed with some clothes slung over his shoulder, but not making any effort to get dressed.

"That could be dangerous," Draco commented, and Harry sent him a flat look.

"Har har, remind me to laugh laughter," he said, and then his expression turned serious again. "But yeah, I was thinking about talking to the boys today," he said, eyes on Draco's. "About Al and James going back to Ginny's."

Draco felt his stomach drop, all pleasant thoughts and memories abruptly pushed aside in response to the words. He reached up to twist his earrings round, the familiar gesture now only a little comforting. "Can't we just keep them?" he asked, voice and heart heavy.

Harry reached out to put a hand on his knee. "Sorry," he said quietly.

"I just don't know how he'll cope," Draco said a little helplessly. "He's only ever had me."

"Well, he'll still have you," Harry said, thumb stroking across the duvet. Draco could barely feel it through the material but appreciated it nonetheless.

"It's different," Draco shook his head. "I'm his father, they're his friends. He's never had friends before."

"He'll still have friends," Harry said quietly. "He's a smart kid, he'll understand."

"I don't know," Draco said despondently. "You saw him that morning, when he didn't want me to go anywhere. He's got a complex about people leaving."

"But you always come back, and he knows that," Harry said earnestly. "We'll explain to him that me and you will still be there for him, and they'll be back before he knows it."

The words didn't really help, but Draco was still thankful for the effort. It wasn't lost on him that only a short time ago he would have spurned such efforts, pushed away Harry and the help he was trying to give. _Oh well, _he thought to himself._ About time I grew up._

"Thanks," he said, and the smile he received in return made it worth saying ten times over. Harry leant across the bed and kissed him on the corner of his mouth.

"When they go, he comes first," he said quietly, meeting Draco's eyes with a steady even gaze. "Whatever he needs, we can do it. Galleons or time no object."

This time, the word _thanks_ seemed too small. Draco reached for Harry's hands and held them tightly, raising them to his mouth and kissing his knuckles, feeling a fierce rush of love for him, the man who had barely begun to know him all over again and was still willing to do so much for both him and his son.

Luckily, Harry seemed to understand. "It's alright," he said with a crooked smile. "Just do me a favour?"

"What?" Draco asked, still holding Harry's hands close to his face.

"Don't be afraid to ask. Don't get awkward about asking," Harry said firmly. "If there's something I can do to make it easier for him, I want to be able to help."

Draco smiled faintly, rubbing Harry's knuckles against his cheekbone. "I can ask for anything for him," he said. "It's me that I have trouble asking for."

"Well, we'll work on you later," Harry said and Draco laughed softly, kissing his fingers one last time and still hardly able to believe his luck that everything here in front of him was his to keep. It still seemed too good to be true, but to be quite honest, Draco still couldn't quite find enough inclination to truly care.

* * *

><p>Standing next to the table in the kitchen with the small of his back pressed against the wood, Draco swallowed thickly, tightening his hands on Scorpius's shoulders and feeling the tremble of his small body in both his hands and as Scorpius leant back against his legs. He didn't dare look down; if he did and saw Scorpius's tear filled eyes and wobbling chin he was afraid he'd end up just as upset.<p>

Instead he watched Harry, who was crouched down beside the fireplace and hugging Al and James tightly. Al's face was streaked with tears and his shoulders were shaking with sobs.

"Why can't he come with us?" Al asked tearfully for what had to be the tenth time that morning. Draco bit his lip and watched as Harry pulled back to look at Al.

"Because Mum and Neville aren't his parents," he explained gently. "He stays with me and Draco. We've been through this, mate."

"Like Alice stays with mum," James said quietly, leaning on Harry's shoulder and fiddling with the hair on the nape of his neck. "She's not Dad's baby so she doesn't come here."

"Then I want to stay here," Al said petulantly, and Draco felt a pang go through him. "I won't go. You said no-one can make me go anywhere where I don't want."

"Je veux pas qu'ils s'en aillent," Scorpius said, now completely in tears.

Draco bent down to scoop him up, holding him tightly and looking helplessly over to Harry. They'd already explained this to the boys, but it didn't seem that it was making things easier now that the time had actually come for James and Al to leave.

"We'll be here when you come back," Draco said, hoping it would help. To his surprise his throat felt tight, and he realised with a jolt that it wasn't just Scorpius who was going to miss the two Potter children.

"Be brave," Harry said firmly, reaching out to wipe Al's tears away with his fingers. "You need to go and see Mum, and I bet Alice has missed you. You'll see Scorpius very soon, I promise."

Scorpius buried his face in Draco's neck and Draco held him tight, running a hand up and down his back and feeling guilty, even though he knew this was completely out of his control. It probably just seemed so unfair to Scorpius; this was the first time he'd made any real friends and he was having to say goodbye. Of course it wouldn't be for long, but to Scorpius it probably seemed like the end of the world.

Al shook his head with a frustrated whine, his small face crumpled in disappointment and stubbornness. Somewhere within himself Draco managed to feel at least pleased that Scorpius had made a friend who clearly liked him so much that he didn't want to leave him.

Realising that Al wasn't going to go quietly as long as Scorpius was there, Draco decided to take evasive action. "Say goodbye," he whispered to Scorpius, holding him close.

"Goodbye," Scorpius called, small voice trembling and accent more pronounced than ever, emotion colouring his voice. "I will be your best friend when you get back."

Draco fought the swell of emotion in his own chest. "You can still be his best friend even when he's not here, silly worm," he whispered.

Scorpius nodded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Bye James," he added, and James waved at him with a small smile.

Draco took that as his cue to make a move. Nodding to Harry, he left the kitchen with Scorpius still in his arms. Scorpius made no more sound, but as they left the kitchen and headed towards the stairs they heard Al's crying turn into a full blown scream.

Draco bit his lip, thanking his lucky stars that Harry was the one dealing with Al's tantrum. Scorpius had never really gone through the kicking and screaming stage and at that moment he was fervently thankful.

"Al is sad," Scorpius whispered, sounding equally as such. "Why does he have to go if it makes him sad?"

"Because he has to go and see his Mum," Draco replied, wincing as Al's screams echoed up the stairwell.

"Je n'ai pas à voir ma mere," Scorpius mumbled.

"You're different, you know that," Draco said shortly. Scorpius nodded but didn't reply. He rested his head on Draco's shoulder, fiddling with buttons of the polo shirt Draco was wearing. Draco carried him into the lounge, hoping the distraction of the television and toys would help distract him from the temporary loss of his friends.

The noise from downstairs abruptly stopped, and Draco wondered if that was because Al had left or if Harry had caved and let him stay. Somehow he didn't think it would be the latter option, though he had to admit in the face of screaming, he probably would have given in.

"Do you want to play with something?" Draco asked Scorpius quietly.

Scorpius shook his head. "I want to stay with you."

"I'll be right here," Draco said softly. "I'll play with you."

Scorpius shook his head again, curling in on himself, holding onto Draco and looking thoroughly miserable.

Draco didn't argue with him. He just leant back against the sofa, gently sifting his fingers through Scorpius's hair. He couldn't really blame him for being upset; over the past week the three boys had been inseparable, and now they were going to have to get used to being apart, and in Scorpius's case, by himself.

A thought occurred to him and he paused for a moment before resuming stroking Scorpius's hair, thoughtful frown in place. Would Scorpius still want to stay in his bed in Al's room, or would he want to come back to Draco? That could be problematic considering that Draco now stopped with Harry - not to mention what they now got up to most nights.

Quiet had fallen downstairs, and as Draco listened he heard the dull thud of footsteps coming up the stairs towards them. Moments later and Harry appeared, looking harried and forlorn.

"Gin had to come get him. Literally carried him through the floo," he said with a sigh. "Didn't think it'd be that bad."

"Neither did I," Draco admitted.

Harry walked over and sat down heavily on the sofa. He sighed, and then after a moment slumped over sideways, nudging Scorpius over slightly so he could rest his head in Draco's lap. Scorpius obliged, shifting to the side so Draco had him on one side and Harry on the other.

"I feel terrible," Harry confessed. "The other day I told him I'd never send him away, and that's what I've just done."

"No you didn't," Draco said, sifting a hand through Harry's hair just as he normally did to Scorpius, feeling secretly pleased that Harry had come to him for comfort. "You would have upset James if you'd only sent him. And you would have upset Ginny if you'd not sent him home, too."

Harry nodded lethargically, still looking lost and a little forlorn. Draco bit back a fond smile; it wasn't that he found the situation funny, but the expression on Harry's face was pretty much identical to the one that Scorpius had been wearing not a minute ago.

"Are you sad, too?" Scorpius asked, and Harry laughed softly, pushing himself up on his elbow.

"A bit," he said, and Draco reached out to run his hand over the back of Harry's shoulders. "I miss them already," he told Scorpius. "But it's okay, because they'll be back next week, and you know what I get to do whilst they're with their mum?"

"What?" Scorpius asked, sounding curious despite himself.

"Play with you all day long," Harry said dramatically, reaching across Draco's lap to tickle Scorpius. Scorpius squealed, wriggling away from Harry's fingers, and Draco's heart leapt as he saw a small smile on Scorpius's face. Scorpius held onto Harry's fingers and Draco saw that Harry didn't pull away.

Scorpius looked down at Harry's fingers held in his, straightening them all out and then pushing them back around his own, fidgeting in a familiar way. Draco watched him do it, feeling a curl of protectiveness in his chest. Strangely, the sensation seemed to be directed at the pair of them, rather than just Scorpius.

Scorpius looked up at Harry. "Can we watch the picture with the lions in it?" he asked hopefully, his voice still small.

Draco bit back a laugh as Harry hesitated, open mouthed and quite clearly loathe to watch the Lion King _again. _Draco nudged him with his elbow and Harry let all his breath out, finally nodding at Scorpius.

"Course," he said, and pushed himself into a sitting position. He quickly leant in to kiss Draco, brushing their mouths together. "You better stay put," he murmured, and Draco laughed against his mouth.

"Do shut up, Potter," he said, pushing at his shoulder to get him to move back. "I'm not going anywhere."

Harry smiled at that, wide green eyes honest and grateful. "You know I actually believe you," he said, and quickly kissed Draco again before sliding off the sofa and crawling over to the television and DVD player. Scorpius hesitated and then followed him, and Draco sat back and let him go to Harry, pulling his feet up underneath him.

It seemed strangely quiet without the other boys here, Draco thought. As he watched Harry with Scorpius he wondered how Harry would have coped in the past, before Draco and Scorpius were here. Sending the boys back through the floo to Ginny, and then staying alone in his house…what did Harry have to fill the emptiness that followed when they had gone?

He felt an odd wave of something that felt like pity wash through him. How had Harry coped? Yes, he had his friends and everything, but they were all married with families of their own. How on earth did he manage on those days when the boys were gone and he was all alone? From the odd few comments Harry had made, Draco gathered there hadn't been any 'boyfriends' between the end of Harry's marriage and Draco. A few one night stands, but certainly nothing substantial enough to ease what must have been a very lonely time.

_Christ, I really have grown up,_ Draco thought to himself as he realised what he was thinking. As Harry finished with the DVD player and turned to join Draco on the sofa, Scorpius scrambling up with them, he smiled, realising that it wasn't all that bad at all.

* * *

><p>Draco was half asleep, dozing on the fine line between wakefulness and slumber, unable to fully commit to either. Harry was behind him, pressed close with his chest against Draco's back and his crotch pressed gently to Draco's arse. His arm was thrown forwards over Draco's waist, a gentle pressure to keep him close. If Draco shifted their toes would brush together, and it felt wonderful. Sleeping in the same bed with someone was incredibly intimate, even more so when Draco already considered it as <em>their<em> bed.

The window was open and a soft breeze wafted in, keeping the room nice and cool, as was Harry's preference. The moon was bright, spilling pale grey light across the bedroom through the parted curtains and making the whole scene look oddly ethereal despite how ordinary it actually was.

He was breathing evenly and deeply and teetering on the very edge of slumber when a sound brought him fully into wakefulness; the soft slither of a wooden door against the carpet beneath and the pad of small footsteps. Harry slept on, and Draco carefully lifted his head, blinking hard as a small familiar figure padded up to the bed, a stuffed panda tucked under one arm. He stopped by the edge of the bed, reaching out to pat Draco's arm.

"Papa," he whispered, voice trembling.

"Why aren't you in bed?" Draco murmured in reply.

Scorpius's chin wobbled. "I don't like to be on my own and Al is not here."

Draco nodded, clearing his throat and only thinking for a moment about what he had to do. "Alright," he said, shifting back closer to Harry so there was space for Scorpius. The movement awoke Harry, who grunted sleepily and tried to pull Draco even closer, the arm around his waist tightening its grip.

Draco nudged him with his elbow. "Scorpius is here," he said, his voice low, and Harry shifted again.

"What?" he mumbled, rolling onto his back and looking up and around, perfectly rumpled and dazed. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, rubbing his face with a hand and blinking tiredly.

"Can Scorpius stay with us tonight?" Draco asked him. "First night alone and all that."

Harry blinked again, brain still fogged with sleep. He looked over and then spotted Scorpius, understanding at once.

"Yeah, okay," he said, voice rough with sleep. "Hang on a minute, mate."

Harry rolled away from Draco with one hand on the sheet, keeping it held up around his waist as he leant over the side of the bed. Draco's eyes slid down the curve of his spine, resisting the urge to smooth his palms over the expanse of skin that was just visible in the dark.

"Papa-"

"Just wait a moment," Draco said, turning back to Scorpius who frowned, lifting the panda up close to his face and rubbing his cheek against the soft material. Draco mentally hoped that Scorpius wouldn't ask why he was being asked to wait; he wasn't awake enough to be answering questions about why he and Harry weren't wearing their pyjamas for bed.

"Here." Harry rolled back, holding out a pair of boxers to Draco, another pair in his other hand. Draco quickly pulled them on under the sheets, trying not to fixate on the visible shift of Harry's hips under the sheet as he did the same next to him.

"Okay?" Draco asked, and Harry nodded through a yawn, shifting back away from Draco onto his side of the bed and lying back down.

"Come on," Draco said to Scorpius, who didn't need telling twice. Clutching panda in one hand, he clambered up onto the bed and then over Draco, wriggling beneath the sheets and settling down right in-between the two of them.

Harry looked surprised for a moment but quickly regrouped, pulling his pillow down and getting comfortable again. Draco smiled faintly as Scorpius wriggled back into him, pulling one of Draco's arms around him in a hug and then looked back to Harry, pushing panda forwards towards him.

"Tu peux prendre panda si tu veux un câli," he said.

Draco snorted with tired laughter. "English," he said half-heartedly.

Harry just smiled. "I think I understood that much," he said, setting the toy on the pillow next to him and then shifting forwards a little, reaching over Scorpius and carefully putting a hand on Draco's hip.

"Thank you," Draco mouthed, and Harry smiled tiredly again, nodding indulgently. He breathed out and shut his eyes again, ready to go back to sleep.

Draco wished he could lean over and kiss him, but he couldn't without disturbing Scorpius. He had anticipated Scorpius coming and lying next to him so Draco could be between him and Harry, but it seemed Scorpius was now comfortable enough with Harry to easily plonk himself in the middle. Well, as long as Scorpius felt safe and comfortable, Draco didn't really mind.

Slowly, Scorpius stopped fidgeting about, his body going still and his breathing slow and even. Draco smiled tiredly, pressing a kiss to the top of Scorpius's head and then letting his own eyes drift shut once more.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

"But I don't want to, I don't want to and you can't make me."

Harry winced as he heard the petulant voice drift through from the hallway, mug of tea halfway to his mouth. He had hoped that Scorpius would have cheered up by now; he'd been in a cranky mood since he'd woken up that morning and only seemed to be getting worse. The refusals continued - now in French – and Harry had to acknowledge that Draco had been more accurate when predicting how well Scorpius would cope with Al and James leaving.

"Fine," he heard Draco's voice reply, sounding frustrated. "Don't get dressed. See if I care."

There was a wail and then moments later Draco appeared in the kitchen, hair sticking up every which way, presumably from running his fingers through it. He yanked a chair out from underneath the table and slumped down onto it, elbow on the table.

"He's four," he said, hand covering his eyes. "Not two. In fact, he's nearly five. I thought he'd have bloody grown out of doing this by now."

Harry bit his lip, wondering what to say. Scorpius was still crying somewhere between the stairs and the kitchen, wailing for Draco who stayed exactly where he was at the kitchen table.

"Do you want me to…?" Harry suggested tentatively.

"No," Draco snapped, and then heaved out a sigh, lowering his hand and rubbing his chin. "I don't know," he amended, sounding exhausted. "I – I don't know what to do."

Harry appreciated the admission for what it was, and as such didn't make comment on the way Draco had snapped at him. He nodded and put his mug down. "I'll bet Al is currently doing exactly the same," he said. "Only with more flailing limbs. Age counts for nothing when they're not getting their own way."

Draco didn't smile. "It's just…fuck. How awful a father am I?" he said listlessly, looking back towards the door. "He loses the one friend he has and here I am being a total bastard about it-"

"Don't blame yourself," Harry said firmly. "You can only sympathise with him so much when he's driving you spare."

Draco nodded soberly, tracing a thumbnail along the edge of the table. He groaned as another miserable wail of _'papa'_ came through the open doorway. He rubbed his face vigorously with both hands, took a deep breath in and seemed to pull himself together.

"Can we take him out somewhere?" he finally asked, lifting his eyes to Harry's and looking hesitant. "For lunch, maybe? Just to cheer him up."

"Course," Harry said, inwardly pleased that Draco had made the suggestion and been able to put aside his own frustration. Then again, he probably should have expected it; Draco always put Scorpius first, no matter what he was going through. A thought occurred to Harry and he paused for a moment before speaking a single word.

"Diagon?"

Draco sent him a flat look. "Not a chance."

"Why not?" Harry asked, genuinely curious as well as a little disappointed. "Thought you'd like a chance for people to see you with him."

Draco shook his head slowly. "Not ready to share him with anyone else just yet," he said slowly, and then pushed himself up out of his chair. "Not ready for people to know I'm back just yet," he admitted.

Harry nodded, understanding. "One day?" he asked, and Draco shrugged.

"One day," he replied, before leaving the room. He called something out in French and Harry immediately heard Scorpius stop crying and reply, voice still somewhat tearful. Draco said something else and then there was a long pause, followed by a tearful '_okay._'

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. Scorpius's difficult moments were – in his opinion – trickier to deal with than Al's or James's; in a way their temperaments seemed much more straightforward. It was easy to work out why they were upset, but with Scorpius he'd noticed that Draco had to almost coax the answers out of him. This time it was easy to work out why Scorpius was upset, but Harry was honestly still mystified as to why missing Al would translate into a refusal to put on clothes.

He drained his mug and picked up the crust of his toast, munching on it as he drew his wand and made quick work of tidying up the few pots left over from breakfast. Walking over to the sink to make sure everything was coming out clean, he couldn't help but wonder what Al and James would be up to that day. He missed them fiercely already; having them with him for over a week and then having them go back to Ginny…the only way he was coping was because of Draco and Scorpius; the house didn't seem too empty with their voices filling it. Especially not when Scorpius was throwing a tantrum, Harry couldn't help but smile guiltily. Having them there to focus on undoubtedly made it easier, but that didn't mean he didn't want his boys back.

_Few days, _he told himself bracingly. _And then you can see them again. _

Feeling bolstered by the thought, he turned his attention back to tidying up and his thoughts back to Scorpius. It was honestly a little heart breaking to see him so upset, and even more so to see the look on Draco's face when he couldn't seem to fix it. He knew too well how that felt, the frustration and pain that came when there was a problem that you just couldn't magic better. It wasn't just that they were both upset that got to Harry; it was the fact he had to tread so carefully when trying to help. He and Draco had certainly come a long way but Harry still didn't want to underestimate Draco's protectiveness over Scorpius, even though they had started to share responsibility.

Leaning back against the table, his gaze wandered over the fireplace and he was suddenly struck with an idea. He glanced towards the door, debated asking Draco for permission for about half a second and then did it anyway.

He strode over to the fireplace and grabbed a pinch of floo powder, flinging it into the grate before calling out 'Tonks cottage.' A few long seconds passed and then Andromeda's face swam into view, smiling tiredly. Her hair was pulled back neatly and she looked tired, but no more so than she normally did. Harry felt the usual mix of happiness and slight apprehension that he usually did when speaking to her; even after all this time he'd not forgotten how he'd shouted in her face when they'd first met. He had a sneaking suspicion that she'd not forgotten either.

"About time you called me," she said, her tone stern. "I've been waiting for you to fill me in for a while."

Abashed, Harry looked down at his knees. "Sorry," he said sincerely, all at once feeling how James must when Harry told him off for something. "There's been a lot going on."

Andromeda raised an eyebrow. "Such as you turning your life upside-down for the sake of my tearaway nephew?"

Harry nodded, reaching up to tug at his hair. "Yeah, that," he said somewhat lamely and wondering why none of his friends could ever just make small talk. "Though he's not so much a tearaway these days."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, Teddy has the market cornered on blond tearaways at the moment," Andi said with another weary smile, and Harry laughed in delight.

"He's still not changed it back?"

Andi shook her head. "You know Teddy. He's been going on about them ever since you had him over, he was so excited. Though if you were trying to keep Draco's return a secret, I think he may have given the game away."

"It's alright," Harry said, though in truth he hadn't given any thought to the fact Teddy would tell people about Draco. He probably should have done; Teddy would probably have told everyone he came across, and they wouldn't know not to spread the news any further. "They'll find out sooner or later anyway."

"And are you okay with that?" Andi asked, her expression far too knowing for Harry's liking.

"I don't mind," he said honestly. "I think he'd rather people not know, though. Not yet, anyway."

"Well, if you can find a way to stop Teddy talking, then please feel free to share," Andi said, and Harry laughed.

"It's okay. He won't be mad at Teddy. It'd be a different story if I'd blabbed."

Andi smiled at that. "So, how long do you want him for?" she said with a twinkle in her eye, correctly guessing the purpose of Harry's firecall.

"Just the day?" Harry asked. "If that's alright with you. Al and James have gone back to Ginny's and Scorpius is a bit lonely. Thought if anyone could distract him, Teddy could."

He heard a muffled shout somewhere from Andi's end of the fire and grinned. "Was that a yes?"

"Did you ever expect it to be a no?" Andi said. "Just don't let him boss Scorpius around," she said sternly. "Just because they're cousins doesn't mean Scorpius has to do everything he says."

Harry grinned. "I'll remind him of that."

Andi nodded. "Well, he's heard your voice and is already putting his shoes on, so speak now if you don't want him straight away."

Harry laughed. "No, it's fine. Send him through. Draco's just getting Scorpius dressed and then we're going out."

"Going out?" Andi questioned. "You realise that you two will make a fine picture on the front of the _Prophet _if anyone sees you."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "You really think so?"

"Of course," Andi said with an apologetic smile. "Draco has been gone for quite some time, people will be intrigued to know where he's been and why he's come back. He was almost infamous by the end of the war, what with everything that happened."

Harry snorted with laughter. "Funny that it'll be him bagging the front page, not me. Not sure if he'd be mortified or smug."

"Well, it's the both of you, isn't it?" Andi said. "There were a few rumours about you two by the end of it all. It was his wand you used, after all."

Harry recalled Roberts mentioning something similar when he'd gone to ask about Draco all that time ago, and he sighed. There honestly hadn't been anything between him and Draco back during the war, not counting a life-debt or two, but it didn't stop the rest of the world assuming. "Well, we're keeping well away from Diagon or anywhere we might be recognised," he said. "There's enough places in Muggle London we can go."

"That sounds – yes, Teddy, just give me a minute," Andi turned her face back towards the room behind her, then gave Harry a rueful smile. "He's ready and raring to go."

Harry nodded, and then paused. "Do you want to come through with him?" he said casually. "Just to say hello?"

The offer was much more than a simple hello, and they both knew it. Andi had yet not spoken much of Draco, other than to say that she never really knew him, but Harry felt that the thought of having living relatives was more important to her than she was letting on. He was half hoping for her to want to become acquainted with Draco – though mostly for Draco's sake. Harry thought that for Draco to have family to connect with would be good for him; it was okay for him to connect with Harry's friends, but they would always have been Harry 's friends first, and they couldn't deny the history that was between them all. Harry wanted Draco to be able to make his own connections, to have his own life, to have someone to go and complain to when Harry was behaving like an arse.

Andi eyed him for a long time, contemplating his words. After a while, she slowly shook her head. "Not today," she said quietly. "I trust you to take care of Teddy around anyone, and trust your judgement where Draco is concerned. You know him better than the rest of us. I just…for me it still feels too soon."

Harry nodded, understanding. "Okay," he said. "I'll just tell him you said hello?"

Andi nodded, looking grateful. "Well, I better move out of the way," she said, glancing behind her. "Patience is definitely not one of Teddy's virtues just yet."

Harry chuckled. "Sounds about right. I'll send him back after dinner?"

"At late as you like," Andi said, and Harry grinned just before the she vanished, the fire remaining roaring and green in anticipation of Teddy's arrival. Harry hastily climbed to his feet and stepped back so he was out of the way; knowing Teddy he would come leaping through with quite a bit of enthusiasm and flailing limbs. He turned around and jolted in surprise as he saw Draco and Scorpius in the doorway, Scorpius now fully dressed and sitting on Draco's hip.

Harry floundered for a second, and then chose to make light of the moment. "See, clothes aren't that bad," he said to Scorpius, who smiled and hid his face in Draco's neck.

"Oh yes, amazing how quickly he can get dressed when he knows he's going out for lunch," Draco said pointedly, setting Scorpius down. Scorpius whined in the back of his throat and leant against Draco's leg with his arms in the air, pouting when Draco shook his head before looking back up to Harry. "So-" he began with a raised eyebrow, but the sentence was lost as the fire flared behind them, Teddy tumbling out of the grate a moment later.

"Harry!" he shouted excitedly, scrambling to his feet and barely drawing a breath before beginning to talk. "You better let me stay for longer this time, because Gran says that I'm only coming for the day but you promised you'd make me my own bed and I could stay here. Hi Draco, I brought some toys over to play with Scorpius, but not the battle-drones because Gran says they're a bit noisy and wasn't sure Scorpius was old enough because they've got guns, and you're his dad so you have to choose whether he can play with guns – not real ones, but toy ones. Scorpius, come and look, I brought over the Racing Riders that George gave me, you wind them up and then they fly-"

Harry shot Draco a hopeful smile as Teddy walked over to the table, taking his backpack off and upending it all over the wooden surface, toys scattering everywhere. Draco looked at Harry for a long moment, expression unreadable, then to Teddy who was busy winding up one of his toys, and then finally down to Scorpius, who was leaning back against his legs, head tilted up so he could see Draco's face.

"Can I play?" Scorpius whispered up to him, and Draco smiled faintly, brushing his hand over Scorpius's head.

"Course," Draco replied, watching as Scorpius left his side and sidled up to the table, looking shy. Teddy instantly thrust a toy into his hand, pointing out where the wind up mechanism was before instantly taking it back off him and saying that he'd do it. Harry smiled fondly and watched in relief as Scorpius climbed up onto a chair, watching Teddy with wide eyes.

Draco watched them for a moment and then looked up to Harry with a reluctant smile. "Good call," he said softly.

Harry grinned back. "I do occasionally have a few good ideas."

Draco leant back against the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest and affecting a thoughtful look. "Well that makes three by my count."

"Only three?" Harry interjected somewhat indignantly. "What are you counting?"

"Killing whatshisface, rescuing me, and this," Draco replied without a beat, the faintest hint of a smirk playing around his mouth.

"Oh, I'm glad you think rescuing you was a good idea now, to begin with I wasn't so sure," Harry laughed, and then glanced at the boys. "And I tend not to talk about killing as such."

Draco frowned. "But you-"

Harry sent another meaningful glance over at the boys, and Draco's expression cleared as he understood. "Oh right," he said. "Okay. Rescuing us, this, and when you made the bad man go away."

Harry laughed, unable to help himself. "You really give it a sense of scale, you know?"

"Telling it like it is," Draco replied, and then smiled bemusedly at the floor. "Christ. Never thought I'd be capable of making jokes about any of that."

"Well, it wasn't quite Voldemort walks into a bar…" Harry said dryly, and Draco's mouth fell open.

"Someone made that joke?" he asked in disbelief.

Harry laughed. "It's nearly as bad as the Death Eater and Dumbledore meet in a lift one."

Draco shook his head, still looking slightly stunned. "As if people actually turn what happened into bar humour."

"Eight years is a long time," Harry said mildly. "I guess for some people it just seems like a distant memory. It's easy to make jokes when the bad stuff has all passed."

"I suppose," Draco said and then paused. "I've not decided if it's a distant enough memory yet."

Harry paused, and then walked over to him, slipping his hands onto his waist. Draco sighed and slipped his hands over Harry's shoulders, wrapping his arms loosely around his neck. The gesture was light and simple but Harry recognised how much of a change it was, for Draco to be able to come for him to comfort and contact without over thinking it. Harry slid his hands around Draco's sides and onto his back, relishing the feel of the familiar body under his palms. Draco breathed in and out deeply and glanced over at Teddy and Scorpius and then back to Harry. "Guess I've got other stuff to be thinking about these days."

"Indeed you do," Harry said, and then leant in and kissed him gently. "Where do you want to-"

"I told you he was your boyfriend!" Teddy's triumphant voice interrupted loudly and excitedly. "You said he was your friend from school, you fibber!"

Harry winced and let go of Draco, stepping back and turning to face Teddy. There was no point denying it; there wasn't really any way he could pass off kissing as something friends did without giving Teddy some serious misconceptions about relationships. Besides, Scorpius already knew that he and Draco were a couple, so to deny it now would just make a complete mess of things again. "Well," he finally said, pulling out a chair next to Scorpius and sitting down. "I couldn't be letting you think you're right all the time."

"I was so right," Teddy grinned. "Look, Draco's gone all red," he said slyly. "Maybe he's embarrassed to be your boyfriend."

Harry laughed at that, eyeing Teddy with amusement. "You certainly know a lot," he said, and Teddy just shrugged, looking up to Draco expectantly as if waiting for his contribution to the conversation. Draco looked startled for a moment and then seemed to regroup, slowly wandering over to where Harry was sat and slipping his hands onto his shoulders. Harry smiled as he felt the press of two thumbs kneading small circles into his shoulder blades.

"Maybe…" Draco said slowly. "I'm just not used to being anyone's boyfriend."

Teddy frowned at him. "Weren't you married before?"

Harry leant back against Draco, tipping his head up to watch his reaction. "No," Draco said, frowning back. "Who said I was?"

"Well people are normally married before they have kids, so you have to be someone's boyfriend before you get married…" Teddy said, though the first hint of unease crossed his features as he looked from Harry to Draco. Harry glanced up at Draco again, who squeezed his shoulders reassuringly.

"I just did things differently," he said with a smile at Teddy, and Teddy instantly relaxed again. He beamed back at Draco and his hair flickered bright red before returning back to blond.

"How do you doing that?" Scorpius asked curiously, leaning on the table on his elbows.

"Say it again," Draco interjected, sounding amused.

Scorpius wrinkled up his nose. "How do you do that?" he amended.

"I just have to think really hard and it changes," Teddy explained proudly. "I was born like this, it's a special ability. My mum could do it as well, but she died when I was a baby. She was a hero."

"Can you turn it every colour?" Scorpius asked. "Could your mum turn hers every colour?"

"She could change everything," Teddy said. "Everything about how she looked. I can only do my hair just yet."

To demonstrate – or show off, depending how you looked at it - he proceeded to change his hair from blond to brown to black to red, and then – with some extra effort and concentration – bright green and pink. Harry laughed at the look of awe on Scorpius's face, and felt Draco squeeze his shoulders.

"I'll say it again," Draco murmured, and Harry looked up to see his eyes were on Scorpius. "Good call."

Harry couldn't help be pleased, both that he'd managed to sufficiently distract Scorpius, and that Draco approved. It was still so wonderful to see Scorpius enjoying himself; it was about time that he could just be a normal four year old without any worries or troubles.

"So, where are we going for lunch?" Draco asked, thumbs still moving circles on Harry's skin.

"Dunno," Harry said lazily, enjoying the firm but gentle pressure Draco was applying to the base of his neck, and wondering if he could persuade him to give him a proper back rub later that evening. "Was going to ask you if you knew anywhere."

"We could just walk and see? I don't care, as long as it's not too busy. And I don't care how appealing the toys are, I'm not going into McDonalds."

Harry snorted with lazy laughter. "Alright," he said, tilting his head left and right in response to the press of Draco's fingers. "I know a small café not too far from here, should be alright. Decent kids' meals."

"That'll do," Draco said, and then his hands stilled on Harry's shoulders. "Just as long…"

He trailed off, sounding somewhat awkward. Harry twisted around to look at him, but Draco was staring away at something else, cheeks faintly pink.

"I don't have any money," he said bluntly.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, reaching up to squeeze Draco's fingers. "I'll sort us out for now."

Draco nodded, and quickly leant down to kiss the top of Harry's head, mouth pressed to his hair. "Thank you," he said, voice muffled enough so that Harry only just heard it. Harry suspected that Draco hadn't intended him to hear; he still had an odd streak of pride somewhere within himself, and Harry reckoned it would still be hard for him to accept help. Especially money, something he'd never wanted for when growing up.

"Shall we go sooner rather than later?" Draco suggested, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah, let's go. We can have a walk, go via the park and take our time. Come on, Teddy, pack up. We're going out."

Teddy whooped, instantly grabbing his backpack and starting to shove his toys back inside. "Can we go to Wheezes?" he asked before Harry could explain where they were going. "George promised me he'd show me the new stuff he'd made. And Fortesques, you have to have ice-cream when it's sunny, even though it's not as sunny as it was last week."

"Not today," Harry said, and smiled ruefully as Teddy stopped packing away and frowned at him. "We're not going to Diagon."

"But I wanted to go to Wheezes," Teddy said, looking disappointed. "I've got my pocket money to spend, and I told George and Ron about Draco and Scorpius being my cousins and I wanted to prove it."

Harry bit his lip. "Not today," he said gently, distractedly wondering how George and Ron would have reacted to Teddy's news about his family. Well, he could count on Ron to be sensible about it, but didn't know how much George did or didn't know.

"I'll go with you another day," Draco suddenly said, sounding a little hesitant.

Teddy narrowed his eyes at him. "Why not today?"

"Because today is about spending time with you and Scorpius and Harry," Draco explained evenly, and Harry felt a surge of pride for him. "You know I was in France for a long time? Well there's people who want to talk to me now I'm back, and I'd much rather talk to you lot today."

"Alright then," Teddy sighed, accepting the explanation. "But you'll take me soon?"

"Soon," Draco repeated with a small smile. Teddy nodded back and then resumed shoving his toys back into his bag, promising Scorpius that they could both play with them when they got back.

"I am taking panda," Scorpius said, tugging on Draco's sleeve until he nodded, and then slid off his chair and disappeared from the kitchen.

"Put your shoes on," Draco shouted after him, and then moved out of the way to allow Harry to stand up.

"Was I okay to say that?" he asked in an undertone, glancing at Teddy. "I didn't want to lie to him."

"Course," Harry said simply. "He understood, so don't worry about it." He paused, thinking hard. "You might have to meet Andi – Andromeda – before you take him anywhere though. If I'm not with you."

Draco stilled in place, eyes on Harry but expression not giving away anything. He glanced back to Teddy again, and then breathed out deeply. "I think I'd like that," he said, but didn't sound sure. "If she wants to. I mean, I didn't know her growing up, but she's my aunt…"

He trailed off, looking uncertain. Harry didn't know how he really felt about his aunt; he seemed to be coping with Teddy quite well, but to meet his mother's sister who he'd never met and who had been cast out of the family many years ago…it was bound to be complicated to even think through.

"Take your time," he said simply. "We're not going to make you do anything you don't want. I think she needs some time to get used to the idea of you as well."

Draco looked a little relieved, but the troubled expression didn't lift entirely. "Good," he said, and then glanced up towards the ceiling as they heard a thud from upstairs. "I'll go see if he's actually putting his shoes on. I'm still betting on him going back to sulking at some point."

Harry bit back a laugh as Draco left the room, watching him go with a now ever-present fondness in his chest. Having the kids around really did bring out the best in Draco, but Harry was most pleased with the way Draco's improved temperament now extended into his relationship with Harry, and wasn't just reserved for interacting with the children. It still felt strange to Harry to consider himself in a _relationship; _considering everything he and Draco had been through, he still didn't expect it to be as easy as it had been.

"Why would Scorpius be sulking?" Teddy asked casually as he did up his backpack, disturbing Harry's thoughts.

"He misses Al and James," Harry said truthfully. "They went back to Ginny's, and he's just getting used to being on his own."

"He won't sulk today, I'm here," Teddy said matter-of-factly. "Do you want me to look after him?"

Harry smiled. "You're doing just fine."

Harry could help but feel excited about the prospect of going out with Draco, Teddy and Scorpius. Even though he stilled missed Al and James fiercely, it would be good to spend time with Teddy, and let him get to know Draco and Scorpius more. Beyond that, it was exactly the sort of day that Harry had dreamt of for so long; to be able to go out with someone by his side, like a proper family. He knew it was still early to be even thinking of them as a family, but after sleeping with Draco he was finding it harder and harder to imagine life without him.

Footsteps just beyond the doorway made Harry and Teddy both turn; Draco and Scorpius walked back in, Scorpius with his shoes on and panda tucked under his arm.

"Ready," he said shyly, holding onto Draco's hand with his spare one. "Papa says I can take panda."

"As long as…?" Draco prompted.

"That I carry him myself all the way and don't ask to give him to Papa," Scorpius finished and Harry laughed.

"Good man," he said, stepping away from the table. "Ready for a walk?"

Scorpius nodded, and Harry felt a pleasant jolt of surprise as Scorpius stepped towards him and reached for his hand, albeit with some difficulty as he still had panda wedged under his arm. Harry smiled and squeezed his fingers. "Mind you don't drop him."

Scorpius looked torn for a moment and then let go of Harry's hand to hold more securely to the toy. Harry didn't mind; the gesture was enough for him, and he had Teddy to walk with anyway. He glanced at Draco to see him looking down at Scorpius with a strange expression on his face, and wondered if it might be better to let Draco have him to himself for a while.

"Come on then," he said. "Let's go."

Teddy immediately made a dash for the front door, complaining loudly when he realised – as always – that he had to wait for Harry to get there to unlock it. Harry obliged with a roll of his eyes, hearing Draco sniggering behind him. The moment the door was open Teddy bounded out into the sunshine, nearly tripping down the step.

"Wait at the gate," Harry shouted after him, hastily shoving his feet into his own shoes and grabbing his keys off the sideboard.

"Would it be better to charm a piece of string to him?" Draco said, putting his own shoes on, albeit with some difficulty as he was still holding Scorpius's hand. Scorpius didn't seem perturbed by Draco's sudden protectiveness, he just stood there quite contentedly.

"Probably," Harry laughed. "I've been tempted before."

"Scorpius! Come look at this!"

Harry and Draco glanced at each other at the sound of Teddy's shout. Scorpius took a step forwards, pulling on Draco's hand. "Come with me," he said, and tugged on his hand until they too were outside.

Harry followed them and turned to lock the door before turning to see what Teddy was shouting about. He and Scorpius were crouched down in the middle of the path, and then Harry saw what the commotion was about; a large green frog that was desperately crying to crawl beyond the reach of Teddy's hands. Every time it reached the edge of the path and made to crawl into the grass, Teddy picked it up and plonked it back in the middle of the path again.

"You can touch him, he won't hurt," he was saying to Scorpius. "Harry, can I keep him? I can take him to Hogwarts with me."

"You'll be better off with an owl," Draco remarked, and Harry had to wonder if he were thinking about Neville and his unfortunate pet as well. He never could see an amphibian without remembering the countless times Trevor had made Neville look like an idiot. If Draco did remember, he didn't say anything so Harry assumed that either he didn't remember, or that his newfound respect for Neville made him keep his trap shut.

"Leave him alone," Harry said mildly, stepping closer to look. "He lives in the garden, I've seen him before."

"Qu'est-ce que grenouilles mangent? What do they eats?" Scorpius asked curiously.

"Frog. It's a frog," Draco told him. "And they eat fingers."

Scorpius squealed and jumped back and even Teddy scrambled back, looking alarmed. "No they don't," he said, but still didn't move to pick the frog up again.

Harry had to laugh at the look on Teddy's face. "I think he's having you on."

"Do they really eat fingers?" Scorpius asked, and Draco laughed as well.

"No," he said, watching as the frog finally made its escape and disappeared into the undergrowth. "They eat worms."

Scorpius giggled at that, following Draco as he made his way down the path. "Which way am I going?" he called to Harry.

"Left," Harry called back, and pulled a face as he saw Teddy wiping his hands on his jeans. "What am I about to ask you?"

"Staying blond," Teddy replied promptly. "Do you think people will think Draco's my dad?"

"They might," Harry said. "Your face is a little different to his, though."

"I might have my mum's face and my dad's hair," Teddy reasoned, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked. It was a pleasant day; warm but not stifling, with a strong breeze that sent the few clouds in the sky sailing overhead.

"You do have your mum's face," Harry said, and Teddy beamed at him, before moving to catch up with Draco and Scorpius, walking along the path next to them and talking to Scorpius. Scorpius listened to him attentively and with a hint of awe in his expression, and Harry made a mental note to make sure that Teddy wasn't filling his head up with too much embellishment and exaggeration, as ten years olds were often inclined to do.

For the moment though, he was content to walk behind them, allowing himself to occasionally let his eyes drift over Draco's arse as he walked. Smiling guiltily to himself, he pushed away the memories of how it felt under his hands and instead turned his thoughts to the day, the places they could possibly go to entertain the kids without drawing too much attention to themselves.

"Right at the end of the road," he called out, and then settled back down into his own thoughts. He couldn't deny the part of him that wished they had gone to Diagon, wondering what would happen if they did. His sexuality would finally be confirmed to the press after years of speculation, he supposed. Not that he really cared what anyone thought or said about him, but it would definitely be interesting to see what happened.

He imagined Hermione's voice scolding him for such thoughts and smiled guiltily to himself. Imaginary Hermione was right; he really shouldn't antagonise the press on purpose just because he was curious about what might happen if he revealed something about himself.

There wasn't just him to think about in all this though. There was Draco, and there were the boys as well. What would be said about them if it were revealed that Harry were in a relationship with Draco Malfoy? In an ideal world the _Prophet_ would say how wonderful it was for someone with such a chequered past to be redeemed, and make a life for himself. In reality, he knew it would be quite a different story. If Draco's recent past came to light it would probably amount to a full-blown scandal, with the general public probably doubting Harry's sanity and judgement all over again.

_Not that I can do anything about it, _he thought calmly as his eyes fell on Teddy, wondering how far the gossip could have spread already. All he could do was carry on as he always had, doing the best by his family. As long as he knew he was doing the right thing by them, everything else would hopefully work out.

"You look very thoughtful," Draco's voice interrupted his musings, and he sent him a lopsided smile.

"Happens on occasion," he said, and nodded ahead. "Go over the road and through the gate. It's a longer walk but it's nicer."

Draco nodded and turned his attention back to the path and the road ahead. Harry watched how careful he was about crossing the road with a small hidden smile, guessing that the caution was down to his concern for Scorpius and distrust of Muggle cars. Harry kept an eye on Teddy but he was just as cautious as Draco, standing the other side of Scorpius and looking keen to set a good example.

They made it safely into the park, walking along the white gravel path that snaked its way the length of the grassy space from one end to another. It wasn't much – Harry doubted that it even passed as a park in the eyes of the kids considering that there wasn't any play equipment – but it was a mild change of scenery from the tarmac and brick of the streets they'd just left. To his surprise, Harry watched Draco pause, then let go of Scorpius's hand and then wait for him, immediately taking hold of Harry's hand when he was close enough to do so.

"And what's this for?" Harry asked, holding Draco's hand close to his side, fingers threading through his.

Draco's eyes were on Scorpius who was chattering with Teddy, gesticulating with panda in his hand. "Seeing how long I can back off for without having a mild panic attack," he said, his voice low but casual. "I've been thinking."

Harry waited, but no more words came. "Thinking?" he prompted.

Draco nodded slowly, eyes still on Scorpius. "I think he should go to school," he said with difficulty. "Maybe. In September."

"Oh," Harry said, surprised but pleased by the words. "Really?"

Draco shrugged, biting his lip and looking uncertain. "I don't know."

"Well, I can talk to the head at the school James and Al go to if you like," Harry suggested. "See if there's any spaces for September."

Draco didn't reply straight away. "I know he needs to go, for his sake," he said. "But…it just seems so…final."

"In a bad way?" Harry prompted.

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "Part of me wants him to have all the opportunities he should, and the rest of me is terrified to let him go."

"It's not really letting him go, though is it?"

"I've always been so scared something will happen to him," Draco said softly. "I know, it's different now, but still…"

Harry understood. It had been hard enough for him to say goodbye to James and Al on their first days of school, knowing that they had to go but worrying about how they'd cope, how everyone else would react to them, feeling guilty that he couldn't take them himself. It wasn't lost on him that Draco had talked about Scorpius going to school before he'd talked about getting himself back on his feet – it was just the way it was with Draco, always finding it easier to put Scorpius first, to ask for things for his son instead of himself.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, but Harry didn't mind and Draco didn't seem to either. Harry noticed that Draco managed to let Scorpius walk by himself all the way to the end of the park, but the moment the gates at the other end came close Draco reached for his hand again, keeping him close to his side.

Harry couldn't help but think of the implications of Draco suggesting sending Scorpius to school. The more he thought about it, the more important it seemed. The suggestion implied that Draco would be willing to stay with Harry for quite some time; there was no point going through the drama of sending Scorpius to school if he were planning to move on, right? By the time they reached the café, Harry was idly half-planning his days in September, going to work and letting Draco drop off the boys and pick them up, coming home to all of them-

"Harry, would you ever get married again?"

Harry's brain promptly cut out and his hand slipped on the café door at the sound of Teddy's curious voice behind him, the question catching him completely by surprise. Regrouping, he pushed open the door which greeted them with its usual merry jingle, letting Teddy in past him.

"Why are you asking?" he asked suspiciously, making sure Draco had got hold of the door before letting go and following Teddy in. The café was small but nice; it had clean cream walls and a polished wooden floor, with wooden booths around the outside and several tables positioned neatly in the middle. A wooden counter was positioned at the far end of the café, with glass cases full of cakes and pastries that looked mouth-wateringly good. The whole place was light and airy, and Harry was pleased with the choice. He was even more pleased with the fact it was fairly quiet; there was an old couple sat at a table near the counter and a family of four in a booth by the bay window which provided a clear view of the street outside.

"No reason," Teddy said casually, but his eyes flicked to Draco as he ushered Scorpius into the café, before turning away and racing over to a window booth that was big enough for the four of them. Feeling slightly bemused, Harry shook his head and then followed, deciding not to tell Draco about what Teddy had just said.

The proprietor of the café was a tall well-built man, standing behind the counter and wiping down some menus. He waved cheerily as they all crowded in, and Harry returned the wave with one of his own.

"Menus on the table," he called. "Give me a shout when you know what you want."

"Thanks," Harry called back with a nod, walking over to the booth that Teddy had chosen and sliding into the seat next to him, pulling his keys out of his back pocket so he didn't get stabbed by them. Scorpius climbed into the booth as well, sitting panda on the table next to him and then reaching to Draco as he sat down as well.

"I'm thirsty," he whispered, fingers pulling at Draco's. "I walked so far."

Draco opened his mouth and then looked to Harry, expression somewhat helpless. Harry didn't say anything, just leant back to pull his wallet out of his pocket, taking out a fiver and giving it to Teddy. "Can you be in charge of drinks?" he asked, and Teddy nodded, snatching the money from between his fingers. "Take Scorpius with you and get him a drink as well?"

Scorpius nodded and immediately pushed at Draco, making him lean back so he could climb over his lap to get out of the booth. He must have been sufficiently thirsty to not worry about being away from Draco, because he followed Teddy without question.

"Teddy," Draco called suddenly, and Teddy twirled around on one foot mid-step, looking expectantly. "He's not to have fizzy drinks, okay?"

Teddy nodded and resumed his march towards the counter, Scorpius at his side and looking excited. Harry watched them go and then turned back around to sink back into the plastic seat of the booth, looking at Draco with a weary smile.

Draco didn't return it. He rubbed his face with his hands and then leant forwards, elbows on the table. He ran his fingers up through his fringe, holding his head in his hands as he looked helplessly at Harry.

"I'm really in a relationship with you, aren't I?" he asked, and Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't look so miserable about it," he said, amused. "Has it only just hit you?"

"Yes!" Draco said emphatically, sitting back and gesturing over at nothing. "Before it was me and you fighting and you know, being all me and you about it, and now all the drama has suddenly gone away and I'm taking our kids out for lunch-" he stopped his rant, looking at Harry despairingly. "It's all so _normal_. We share a bed and stuff, and we do _washing. _Christ, I need a drink."

"I'd rather you didn't," Harry said lightly. "I prefer the normal stuff to the drama."

Draco shook his head slowly. "If you knew him even a year ago," he said, eyes on Scorpius and Teddy around the edge of the booth. "Hell, you saw him. He had so much to be scared about, and now he's laughing and making friends and…" he broke off, running a hand through his hair again. "I love it, alright?" he said. "I love the stupid walking in the park and the having a proper bed to share, and you, you arse."

Harry listened to the words, feeling his heart swelling inside his chest. "Well, if you hadn't noticed, I'm quite taken with you as well," he said lightly. "So I don't mind."

"Why me?" Draco asked, still sounding helpless. "You could have picked anyone-"

"Well I picked you," Harry interrupted firmly. "Or rather, fate dragged you out of a fountain and dumped you in my lap."

Draco watched him carefully for a moment, and then he smiled down at the table, laughing slightly. "I'd forgotten about that," he said ruefully. "I was swimming."

"So you told me at the time," Harry smiled back and reached across the table for Draco's hand. Draco didn't hesitate before reaching out and slipping his fingers into Harry's, resting them atop the red tablecloth that covered the table between them.

"Never thought it would end up like this," Draco murmured, looking at their hands. "The selfish part of me kind of likes it."

Harry smiled, tracing his thumb over Draco's. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Teddy and Scorpius returning, both clutching bottles of orange juice.

"Be careful your hair doesn't go orange," Harry murmured as he leant back to allow Teddy to clamber back into his seat.

"It won't," Teddy said confidently. "It hardly ever changes when I'm eating. Only does it sometimes when I'm tired and I get sad."

"Alright, what are you having to eat?" Draco said to Scorpius as he wriggled back into his space between Draco and panda, leaning over him to grab a menu from the stand at the end of the table.

"I don't know, I don't know what there is," Scorpius said, reaching up for the menu. "Read it out to me?"

"Can't you read?" Teddy asked curiously twisting the top off of his bottle of orange juice and taking a swallow. Harry watched him for a moment satisfied when Teddy's hair stayed as blond as it had been. "I learned to read when I was three."

"You sure about that?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. "Three's a bit young."

"No, I was three," Teddy said confidently, and Harry decided to let him have that one and not point out that he most definitely couldn't read at the age of three. Sometimes arguing with Teddy was more trouble than it was worth.

"I read a little bit of words in French," Scorpius explained to Teddy. "But only two or three or four in English."

"You read more than four words," Draco said, letting the menu fall flat onto the table and sounding exasperated. "I bet you could read most of this if you tried."

Scorpius shook his head, eyes wide. "You read it."

Harry but back a laugh as Draco rolled his eyes and then picked up the menu again. "Alright. You can have worm pie, frog stew or spiders on toast."

Teddy laughed and Scorpius did too. "Non," he insisted through his giggles, pulling on Draco's arm. "Read it properly."

"I am doing," Draco said, completely straight faced and pointing at something on the menu. "Look, it says spiders on toast."

Teddy seized the menu, pulling it towards himself as Scorpius laughed. "It does not!" he said. "It says fish fingers and peas."

Draco finally let himself grin. "Alright, smarty-pants. You read it then if I'm getting it wrong."

He leant back into the back of the booth, smiling over at Harry as the two boys set about deciphering the menu. Harry couldn't help but smile, remembering back to when he'd first seen Draco teasing his son like so, that first moment in which Harry had glimpsed something underneath Draco's façade of spite and indifference.

"Yes I know, remember when I was too much of an arse to be all nice like this," Draco said, as if he read Harry's mind. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Don't know what you're on about," Harry said airily, reaching for a menu of his own and looking down the list of main courses.

"You're a rubbish liar," Draco said, but he didn't sound angry. If anything, he sounded amused and maybe even a little pleased. "Right, order me the scampi, I'll be back in a minute."

"Where do you going?" Scorpius immediately said, grabbing hold of Draco's fingers. "Can I come?"

"I'm just going to the toilet, silly worm," Draco said gently, running a hand over Scorpius's head. "You stay here and make sure Harry doesn't accidentally order himself a worm pie."

He glanced at Harry, eyes serious and questioning. Harry nodded fractionally and appeased, Draco slid out of the booth, weaving through tables towards the toilets that were down by the counter. Harry turned his head to watch him go, inwardly pleased that Draco felt comfortable enough to leave Harry to watch Scorpius in a place that neither of them were familiar with. It was a strange feeling in a way, knowing that he was now jointly responsible for another child.

"Can I have the burger?" Teddy said, interrupting Harry's idle musings. He looked away from the door that Draco had just slipped through, turning his attention back to the boys.

"Course," he nodded, eyes scanning the menu to see what Teddy was looking at. "The chicken or the beef?"

"Beef burger," Teddy replied promptly. "With ketchup."

Harry shook his head. "You know you're not allowed ketchup when you're out."

Teddy looked at him, aghast. "But you have to have ketchup with a burger," he pleaded. "Come on, Harry, my hair hasn't changed because of ketchup in ages."

"Not risking it," Harry said firmly. "You know how much trouble it causes if anyone accidentally saw."

Teddy didn't give in. "But you're an obliviator," he reasoned. "So if it did, they wouldn't have to send the obliviators, because you're already here."

"You know full well I have to have permission to obliviate someone," Harry said firmly, choosing to ignore the fact he'd been suspended from work for doing exactly the opposite. "So I'd have to go all the way to the ministry and back again. No ketchup."

Teddy sighed, pulling a face. "Fine. What about mayonnaise? My hair's already white."

Harry smiled. "Deal."

"Can I have some pasta?" Scorpius said suddenly, looking at Harry hopefully.

Harry nodded, turning his menu around and pointing at something with a smile. "Do you know what this says?"

Scorpius shook his head as he knelt up on the seat, leaning across the table to look at what Harry was pointing at. "It has a S," he said, looking up at Harry with an intrigued expression on his face.

"It is, well done," Harry said, and then lowered his voice to a whisper. "It says spaghetti."

"Spaghetti!" Scorpius said enthusiastically. "Please may I have some spaghetti?"

Harry nodded. "Couse," he said. "It's spaghetti with meatballs, that okay?"

Scorpius nodded happily, sitting back down and reaching for panda, whispering something in French to him and stroking his ears with vigour. Harry smiled fondly; no-one who saw Scorpius now would ever guess that he'd been a tearful wreck that morning. Who knew that spaghetti and meatballs could have such an effect?

Harry turned around to quickly glance at the toilets door, but Draco still hadn't reappeared so he turned back to the boys. "What did Draco say he wanted? Scampi?"

"I wish he didn't like fish, because I don't like it and then I can't share any of it," Scorpius said in answer, and Harry laughed.

"Why would you want to share when you get spaghetti?" he said, and Scorpius just smiled at him, hiding his face behind panda.

"What are you having?" Teddy asked Harry, who turned his attention back to the menu, having completely forgotten that he would have to order himself something as well.

"No idea," he said. "Maybe the pie."

"A worm pie?" Teddy said, and Scorpius giggled across the table. "Maybe we could take worm pie back for the frog in your garden. I bet I could catch him, I could keep him in a tank and take him to school with me."

"You'd be better off with an owl," Harry said, repeating Draco's earlier words. "Then you can use it to send post as well."

"Did you have an owl?" Teddy asked.

Harry nodded. "A white one," he said with a small sad smile. "Called Hedwig."

"Maybe an owl would be better," Teddy mused. "For post and for pecking people."

"Do owls peck you?" Scorpius asked, sounding worried.

"Only if you make them cross," Harry said hastily, before Teddy could launch into a tale of murderous owls that wold probably peck your eyes out if given half the chance. "Mine was very friendly."

"Gran's owl bit me," Teddy said happily, leaning over the table to show Scorpius his finger. "Look, see?"

Harry gave up. In truth he couldn't see any marks of any sorts on Teddy's finger but he wasn't going to invite a debate over it. Luckily, he was saved from having to wade in by the café owner, who walked over with a notebook in hand.

"Are we ready to order?" he asked cheerfully. "Or do you want to wait for the other gentleman?"

"No, it's okay," Harry replied. "We would like a child's burger, a child's spaghetti and meatballs, a scampi and a steak and ale pie, please. Oh, and…" he cast his eyes down the drinks lists, wondering if he should get Draco a drink and feeling quite partial to the idea of a beer himself. He quickly decided against it; Draco was doing well with his attitude towards alcohol and Harry didn't want to rock the broom too much too soon. "Just some water please," he finished.

The man nodded. "Be around twenty minute, half an hour wait?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Cheers," Harry replied, and the man walked off towards the kitchen.

Harry watched him go, glanced towards the toilets door again and then back to the table. Teddy sighed and slumped back against his seat. "Half an hour?" he mourned. "That's forever."

"You'll survive," Harry said bracingly, and then turned to Scorpius who was looking out of the booth towards the counter, expression a little worried. "You okay, mate?" he asked gently.

"Waiting for Papa," Scorpius replied. "He is normally back by now."

"He'll be back, don't worry," Harry said, trying to be reassuring. He twisted around to look as well, then turned back as he saw nothing.

"I'll check," Teddy announced. "I need the loo anyway. Can I get out please?"

Harry obliged and slid out of the booth so Teddy could slip out past him, darting between the tables as he cut across the café towards the toilets. Harry watched him go and then sat back down, slightly surprised when Scorpius immediately picked up panda, getting up and walking around to Harry's side of the booth, climbing up next to him and sitting close. Feeling a pang go through him, Harry slipped an arm over Scorpius's shoulders, giving him a brief one-armed hug.

"Don't worry, mate," he said, and made to move his arm, but Scorpius caught hold of his fingers, keeping his arm in place.

"I don't like to be on my own," Scorpius said. "So I wanted to sit with you."

"That's okay," Harry said. He hesitated for a moment, and then took hold of Scorpius and lifted him up and set him on his knee, Scorpius's legs sideways over his. Scorpius leant back against his chest, blinking slowly and looking a lot less animated than he had done moments previously.

"When will Al come back?" he asked quietly, and Harry saw him reach up to slip the ends of his fingers into his mouth. Harry paused and then gently pushed Scorpius's hand away, as he'd seen Draco do many times before.

"Soon," he said. "A few days. Maybe three or four."

Scorpius nodded. "Will I be able to sleep in my own bed when he comes back?"

"Of course," Harry said gently. "It's your bed, you can sleep in it whenever you like."

"It is better than my old bed," Scorpius said. "I like living in your house more."

"I like you living in my house," Harry said, reaching up to run a hand over Scorpius's head, his hair soft under his hand.

"You like Papa," Scorpius said, looking up at Harry, his blond hair catching on Harry's t-shirt.

Harry smiled. "Very much."

Scorpius seemed appeased. He nodded and sighed, settling down against Harry and swinging his feet slightly. His weight on Harry's lap felt so familiar that for a moment it made him ache with missing Al and James, but then he thought about how Scorpius was now as important to him as Draco was, part of his family-

"Harry!"

Teddy's voice made him turn, and his stomach dropped as he saw Teddy walking quickly towards him, white-faced and uncharacteristically worried.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, twisting around and swinging his legs out of the booth, one hand on Scorpius to keep him steady and the other reaching out towards Teddy.

"I went in the toilets and I couldn't find Draco," Teddy said, reaching for Harry's hand. To Harry's shock it was trembling violently. "He wasn't there, and there's blood all over one of the sinks."

Harry felt the bottom drop out of his world. He stared at Teddy's frightened face for a moment and then swore, letting him go and grabbing hold of Scorpius as he stood up, panic flooding through his veins and making his whole body go tense and tight, feeling like he was about to be sick.

"Harry?" Scorpius whispered, voice high-pitched and already petrified. Harry didn't answer. He blindly reached for Teddy's hand and grabbed tightly hold of him, moving across the café towards the toilets, heart pounding in his chest and feeling ill.

He burst through the toilet door and froze in place. The room was empty, and all that he could see was blood all over the sink near the far wall, smeared across the white porcelain and across the blue paint of the wall.

He stepped forwards as if in a daze, Teddy clutching tightly to his hand and Scorpius clinging to him so tightly it hurt.

Draco was gone.

"Where is he?" Teddy whispered, sounding frightened, and Scorpius started to cry. Harry couldn't move. He stared at the empty room, something terrible stirring in his chest because he had thought this was over, it should all be _over_ and now Draco was _gone_.

Blank, Harry couldn't do anything but stare at the sink, unable to even speak or do anything, because Draco couldn't be gone, not after they'd got so far, not after Harry had finally found what he'd been looking for, not after he'd fallen in love with Draco.

"Harry, Harry, do something-"

He blinked dazedly and suddenly became aware of Scorpius crying hysterically and Teddy pulling on his hand, and Teddy was right, he had to do something, but he couldn't _think_, he just wanted Draco back, he had to get Draco back –

Swallowing down the sickening twist of emotions in his chest, he held both kids tight to him and took a stumbling step back, disapparating with a crack, Scorpius's scream ringing in his ears.


	29. Chapter 29

_**AN**: Ouch, I got told. I'm not posting notes saying when the next chapter will be up because I honestly don't know. For a long while, I had lots of free time which I could dedicate to fandom, but since September that has changed. I'm not leaving fandom, but at the moment I just don't have the same amount of free time. That will be all._

_Thank you to KimioRobin for translating super-quickly, and thank you to everyone else who offered._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 29<strong>

Something wasn't right. Even through the crushing pressure of apparition, Harry could feel something wrenching at his lungs and stomach, a twisting pain inside his chest that made him want to cry out. It was as if he were trying to apparate and take a portkey at the same time, and all he could do was clutch Scorpius and Teddy tightly to him, clenching his eyes shut and desperately wishing for respite from the pressure -

And suddenly it was over, and Harry felt the shock of being abruptly free from the pressure, the sunlight around him almost blinding. He hit the ground on his feet, staggering with the force of the impact and tumbling down onto his knees, flinging out the hand that still clutched Teddy's to prevent himself from crushing Scorpius or landing on his face.

Breathing heavily through his mouth and fighting down the urge to be sick, it took him a moment to register the warm grass beneath them, the open sky above their heads. Another frisson of panic ran through him as he realised that this was _not_ where they were meant to be; they were meant to be back home, why weren't they back at the house-?

He belatedly looked down at Scorpius and Teddy, trying to find the wherewithal to speak, but his throat was too tight. Scorpius was still crying, clinging onto Harry so tightly it was hurting his ribs. Even more worrying was the fact that Teddy was silent, his face pale and frightened.

For the first time in a long time, Harry found he simply didn't know what to do. He didn't know where he was and _Draco was gone_, and he had two children relying on him to sort it out, to take charge of the situation and fix it, but all he could think about was Draco and the fact he was _gone_. All he could think about was Draco lying back in their bed, expression more trusting than it ever should have been. Draco trying not to laugh at something rubbish on the TV, nestled into Harry's side with their fingers linked loosely together. Draco sitting at the kitchen table with James, discussing the plot of whatever comic James was reading. Draco sitting in the cheap plastic booth of a café and admitting that he loved Harry too-

Trembling, Harry sat back on his heels, feeling lost and staring blankly at the grass in front of them. He didn't know what to do. He _always_ knew what to do – why couldn't he pull himself together and _do something-_

"Harry!"

He looked up at the frantic shout of his name and nearly collapsed in relief as he saw Ron running across the grass towards him, dodging tree roots and bushes as he went. In that moment Harry realised both where they were and why the apparition had felt so strange – somehow his magic had decided not to take him home, but to bring him to Ron and Hermione's back garden instead. _Maybe it knows I need help this time,_ Harry thought dazedly.

"What did you do?" Ron asked in amazement as he reached them, sinking down onto his knees and grasping Harry's shoulder roughly. "You know you can't apparate in here, it's warded to death – fucking hell, Harry!"

Ron grabbed Harry's wrist, trying to pull his hand away from where it rested on Scorpius's back. Harry resisted, unable to comprehend letting Scorpius go for even a moment, panicking at the thought of somehow losing him too.

"Harry, let me - you've splinched yourself," Ron pleaded, not letting go. "Jesus Christ-"

"Draco's gone," Harry said over him, the words too rough and raw in his throat. "Someone's taken him."

Some terrible unnamed emotion was rising in his chest, making breathing seem difficult. He was almost aware of a dull pain in the back of his hand but it didn't seem important, nothing seemed important. The only thing that he cared about was Draco and getting him back, but he didn't even know who had taken him or where he would have been taken. Even thinking about it made him feel ill; all of his organs seemed displaced and too large to fit comfortably inside his body, all twisting up into the wrong places.

Ron stared at him for a long moment and then swore again. "Bloody hell," he said, shaking his head roughly. "I know now is really _not_ the time but I fucking well_ told you so._"

He climbed to his feet and reached for Teddy, pulling him up to his feet as well. He set his hands on Teddy's shoulders. "Are you hurt?" he asked. "Ted, look at me. Are you hurt?"

Teddy managed to shake his head, but still didn't say anything. His hair had turned from its previous white into a muddy shade of brown, dull and flat and clashing horribly with his pale face. "Good," Ron said, running a hand over Teddy's hair. "Go to the house, tell Hermione you're here with Harry."

Teddy nodded, face still pale and frightened. He took an unsteady step back, and then another and another, before turning away and running towards the house.

"Get up, come on."

Ron turned his attention to Harry and heaved him to his feet. Harry let himself be pulled, stumbling slightly on the uneven ground, his legs still not as steady as they should be. He tightened his grip on Scorpius, who wound his arms around Harry's neck, sobbing into his shoulder.

Ron steadied him with a hand on his shoulder, glancing at Scorpius. "What happened?" he asked urgently.

Harry swallowed, trying to stop shaking. "We went for lunch," he said. He looked down helplessly and his stomach lurched as he saw that Ron was right; he had been splinched. A wide strip of skin was missing from the back of his hand, from his knuckles to his wrist. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wildly hoped that he hadn't splinched Scorpius as well, because Draco would fucking kill him if he had –

If Draco were here, that was.

"Harry," Ron said gently, and Harry lifted his eyes to blink helplessly at him. "What happened?"

Harry cleared his throat. "We went for lunch," he tried again. "The café on Clumber road. He nipped to the toilet and then he was gone, and there was-"

He couldn't finish the sentence, and not just because he didn't want to upset Scorpius any further. The words wouldn't come; he didn't want to have to say it out loud and bring the blurry fear in his mind into sharper focus. He didn't want to think about what could possibly have happened – he refused to let his thoughts go any further than _Draco's gone_ because there were words so much worse than _gone_ that were threatening on the outskirts of his mind.

"Did you see anyone else?" Ron asked. "Harry?"

Harry shook his head dumbly. _No_, he tried to say, but he couldn't speak any more; his mind was whirling and he had to do something, he couldn't just stand there-

"Alright," Ron said, his voice breaking through the storm of thoughts. "Come on, let's get you inside to start and then we can take it from there."

Harry felt a hand on his arm, firmly taking hold and trying to lead him. He shook his head, turning away and stepping back.

"No," he managed to say. "Ron, I can't. I need to go home and check, and I need to go-"

"Harry, no," Ron said firmly, reaching out for him again. "Not this time."

"I have to-" Harry said, his voice rising to a shout. "I've got to get home, I've got to fucking find him, I can't just sit here and do nothing-"

"Harry! Stop it - just shut up for a moment!" Ron shouted back, grabbing Harry roughly by his shoulders. "Look at the kid – Harry, he needs you. He needs you."

With a sickening drop to his stomach, Harry realised Ron was right. Scorpius was still here with him, frightened to death and having to deal with the fact his father had been taken. God, he'd seen the blood and everything and now was having to deal with Harry having a breakdown, shouting and swearing and all.

"I can't just-" Harry tried to say, voice broken. "Ron, I-"

"Do you trust me?" Ron interrupted, his fingers clenching on Harry's shoulder. Harry nodded wordlessly. "Then listen to me," Ron said, voice low and urgent. "We will find him. But you are not going anywhere. You've splinched yourself once already, and you need to be here for Scorpius."

"But-"

"Harry," Ron said, voice deadly serious. "Trust me. Please, just this once, let me sort it."

Harry dithered for a moment. The part of him that trusted Ron implicitly was clashing painfully with the part of him that needed to be active and doing, to be the one sorting the problem. He needed to be the one to go and find Draco - he couldn't trust anyone else with that responsibility. The Aurors just knew Draco as a suspect in the Hightops case, they didn't understand how important it was to find him. They wouldn't care that Harry and Scorpius needed Draco back like they needed air to breathe - they just knew he was an acquitted Death Eater who worked as a rentboy for a criminal gang. What if they didn't even bother looking properly? What if looking for Draco didn't suit the greater good?

"Come on," Ron said, and gave Harry's elbow a gentle tug. Harry resisted again, his body tight and tense, but then Scorpius shifted in his arms, curling in on himself and covering his face with his small hands, still crying so hard he was coughing.

Harry felt something inside him give way. He had Scorpius here in his arms and that was something he could take care of right now. Ron was right - he would just have to trust in his friends to help him. The thought of not acting was simply terrifying, but the thought of letting Scorpius down was even more unbearable. Ron must have sensed or felt the change in his demeanour because he stepped forwards, leading Harry with him and looking relieved when Harry complied and stepped forwards.

"Scorpius," Harry said, his voice rough. He raised a shaking hand and tried to push Scorpius back so he could see his face, trembling fingers trying to pull Scorpius's hands away from his eyes. "Scorpius look at me."

"Il est parti et je veux qu'il revienne, je veux mon papa," Scorpius sobbed, curling back in on himself and hiding his face in Harry's shirt. Harry looked helplessly down at him, resting his palm on the back of Scorpius's head and cringing as he accidentally smeared blood from his splinched hand onto Scorpius's blond hair. Fuck, he just needed to check that Scorpius hadn't been hurt either or Draco would go absolutely spare, and then he'd murder Harry for splinching his son, if he'd not already been-

_No,_ Harry told himself fiercely, pushing the thought away and refusing to entertain any thoughts about what could have happened to Draco. He was gone, but that didn't mean anything more.

The walk through the garden to the cottage was the longest of Harry's life. Scorpius was still crying and all Harry could do was hold onto him and clumsily stroke his hair, wishing he spoke French so he could understand what Scorpius was trying to say. _En anglais_, he remembered Draco saying with a roll of his eyes, and he felt his throat constrict and his eyes burn. He wished he could say something to Scorpius to make it better but he just couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat.

"Hermione," Ron called when they were close enough to the open back door to be heard. Harry looked up in time to see Teddy rush out, pulling a concerned looking Hermione by the hand. His face was still frightened but he was speaking rapidly to Hermione, gesticulating wildly. He tugged on her hand, stumbling over the uneven patio stones in his haste.

"Oh my god, Harry!" Hermione's confused frown gave way to shock as she spotted Harry. "That was you apparating in? How on earth-"

"Not important," Ron said, interrupting her. "We can sort ward security later."

"God, you've splinched yourself," Hermione said, aghast. "Here, let me-" She reached out to take Scorpius who screamed and tried to twist away from her hands.

"Non, ne la laisses pas m'emmener," he cried, words barely distinguishable. "I want Papa, I don't want her-"

"Don't," Harry managed to say, placing a hand on the back of Scorpius's head and holding him close. "I've got him."

Hermione moved her hands away from Scorpius, putting one on her forehead and looking upset. "Harry, you're hurt-"

"I'm not letting him go," Harry said, and she bit her lip and nodded.

"Someone's taken Malfoy," Ron said, jerking his head towards the house in an indication for them to keep moving and head inside. Hermione reached for Teddy's hand and he crowded close, clinging onto her hand with both of his own and silent once more, wide scared eyes on Harry. Harry knew he should say something to him to reassure him, but he couldn't. How could he say everything was going to be okay when Draco had been abducted by the most dangerous gang of criminals the Auror force had encountered in years? How could he say everything was going to be fine when he didn't know that himself?

He found himself steered into the house and sat down at the kitchen table, the same table he'd sat at when trying to explain to his friends about how he'd found Draco and had been sent home for interfering. That seemed like years ago now, a whole life away. To think back then he'd only been intrigued as to where Draco had been, and since that moment he'd brought Draco to his home, he'd shared a bed with him, slept with him, even fallen in love with him.

And now he was gone.

"Harry," a low voice said, and he looked up to see Ron crouching by chair he'd been pushed into. "I'm going to go and call Ellis, okay? I'll tell him what has happened, and he can do something from his end. I'll go speak to George as well. I know for a fact he's got some tricks somewhere that could probably help trace someone. Probably not legal, but you know."

Harry nodded wordlessly. That made sense, to go find Ellis and get him to help - despite being a complete arsehole, Ellis was still Harry's mate and would understand how important this was. He would know that Draco was more than just a criminal; Harry had told him himself that he was involved with Draco and didn't think Ellis would just dismiss that.

Even though this was probably Ellis's fucking fault anyway – how many time had he reassured Harry that Draco was safe? But then that was his own stupid fault for believing it anyway, Harry thought listlessly. He knew deep down that it wouldn't help blaming Ellis, even though the thought of yelling at him for ten minutes was tempting. As long as the arse was going to help get Draco back, Harry could probably keep from throttling him.

The urge to get up and start hunting Draco down faded marginally, enough so that Harry could take a shaky breath and sink back into the chair. He pulled Scorpius around on his knee, so Scorpius was sat across his lap with his head leant against Harry's chest.

"Good man," Ron said, clapping Harry on the knee and looking relieved. "I'll be right back."

He got up and left, presumably to use the floo. Harry stayed where he was, but found that he was still shaking from top to toe, his body tense and tight. He pulled Scorpius even closer, his warm weight a small comfort he knew he wouldn't find anywhere else. As he pulled Scorpius close, he realised just how bloody _small_ he actually was; he was even littler than Al, and how was it fair to have all this dumped on him at this age? It was too much for Harry, never mind Scorpius. Feeling a fierce rush of protectiveness towards him, Harry took a deep breath, finally swallowing around the lump in his throat and finding his sense of purpose.

"Scorpius, I need you to look at me," he said, gently pushing Scorpius back so he could see his face. He caught Scorpius's hand in his to prevent him covering his face again, squeezing gently. "You're being so brave, but I need you to look at me."

Scorpius did, his grey eyes swimming with tears. Harry's heart jolted in his chest at the familiar sight, a piercing ache in his chest at the fleeting thought that he might never be able to see Draco's eyes again. He pushed it away, clinging on to the flicker of purpose that he'd found and focussing his courage on it. This was what he needed to do.

"We are at my friend's house," he told Scorpius, finding that his voice was steadier than he'd expected it to be. "My friends Ron and Hermione who came and had dinner with us at our house, remember? They are my best friends, and they're going to look for your papa right now."

"I want to go home," Scorpius said, chin wobbling as he tried not to cry. "I want Papa to come home."

"He will," Harry said, trying to sound brave. "We've just got to sit tight for now."

Scorpius nodded and shrank back into Harry's side, trembling just as Harry was. He reached up to slip his fingers into his mouth and Harry didn't have the heart to stop him. For the first time in four years he found he ached for a cigarette; a habit that had been born with – and died with – his drunken antics after he came out.

"Harry," a gentle voice said, and Hermione came to kneel down beside him where Ron had been minutes before. She had a small, familiar, glittering vial in her hand and Harry immediately held out his injured hand without question or comment. She carefully took hold of it and Harry closed his eyes as she gently dripped dittany onto the wound, which started to heal the moment the liquid touched it. Harry found himself wishing that dittany would work on emotions as well as skin, then cursed himself for being such a fucking wuss.

"I feel like such an-" he began, eyes still closed.

"Hush," Hermione said gently. "You weren't to know."

Harry shook his head, the lump in his throat welling up again. He pressed his face to Scorpius head again, breathing in the now-familiar smell of his hair. He heard the gentle thud of the vial being set on the table and tried to clear his throat.

"I did know," he said, the words unable to be restrained. "There were so many fucking clues and I just sat there playing happy families-"

"Harry," Hermione said sharply at the same time that Scorpius shifted restlessly in his arms, a small distressed noise in the back if his throat. "Now is not the time," she said simply. "Ron is on the case, and he'll do everything he can to help. You know that."

Harry nodded dumbly. He didn't speak straight away; all the emotions inside him were still bubbling, threatening to break free if he didn't make a concerted effort to control them. He took a deep shuddering breath in and forced his thoughts away from Draco and his fear and back to Scorpius. "Where's Teddy?" he asked, his voice shaky.

"I sent him home," Hermione said simply. "Andi said she's there if we need her. Now stay there, I'm going to make us all a drink."

Harry felt a bubble of hysterical laughter well up in his chest, jarring uncomfortably with the already crushing pressure of emotion in his chest. He should have predicted that really; one of the worst things to ever happen in his life had just occurred and Hermione's immediate go-to was still tea. Oh well, it could be worse, he thought shakily. At least Ron had got the _I told you so_ out of the way nice and early. He supposed they could be just sitting there and not helping, because at the end of the day it was still Draco Malfoy that they were talking about. They could all-too-easily have refused to even entertain the notion that Harry wanted to be with Draco, but here they were, rushing to his side to help track down the git.

God, what the fuck would Ginny say when she found out? Harry had gone out of his way to prove to her that Draco wasn't a criminal, that he could be trusted, that he was safe-

"Here," Hermione said, putting a mug of tea down on the table next to Harry, and then holding out a beaker. "And this one is for Scorpius," she said, but Scorpius cringed and shook his head.

"Papa a dit que je ne dois pas boire ce que me donne quelqu'un que je ne connais pas," he managed to say, still hiccuping with tears. Harry opened his mouth to tell him to speak in English but Hermione got there first.

"Well how about you share Harry's then," she said calmly, and Harry realised with a surprised jolt that she understood what Scorpius had said. "You know Harry," she said, and drew her wand to wave it gently over Harry's tea. "There. Won't be too hot now."

Scorpius looked up at Harry, doubt written all over his face, and with another jolt Harry realised that Scorpius really trusted him and was looking for Harry to say it was okay. He nodded, feeling tears pricking at his eyes, and then reached out to pass him the mug of tea. Scorpius cupped his hands around Harry's and took an awkward mouthful through his hiccoughing, and then to Harry's surprise Hermione swiftly reached out and took it from them.

"Little bit at a time," she said, and Harry watched as Scorpius frowned, then yawned massively and sank back bonelessly into Harry's arms, eyelids fluttering shut and then opening sleepily again. He put his fingers back in his mouth and let out a great shuddering breath, his tears finally stopping.

"Calming potion," Hermione said matter-of-factly, and Harry's mouth fell open. "You would benefit from drinking the rest of that."

"It's not too strong for him, is it?" Harry asked, alarmed and still unable to completely comprehend that Hermione had just slipped a four year old a bloody calming potion.

Hermione shook her head. "No, he's fine, as long as he doesn't have any more."

Harry shook his head, gently rocking Scorpius back and forth without even realising he was doing it. "I can't believe-"

He was going to say that he couldn't believe that she'd slipped Scorpius a calming potion but somewhere between him thinking it and saying it the words changed. _I can't believe that Draco is gone_, echoed numbly through his mind, and then the stinging in his eyes became too much to bear. In that moment it seemed too much - to have finally found peace in his life, to find something he'd always wanted in such an unexpected place, and then to have it all snatched away, and he didn't even know if he would ever get it back.

He raised his newly healed hand to cover his eyes and as he did he felt Scorpius move lethargically in his arms, shifting around to kneel up and wrap small arms back around Harry's neck. Harry held him tightly, unable to hold back the emotions that had been threatening since Draco had vanished, and _this_ is why he wanted to get up and act, because when he was busy it didn't leave space for everything to catch up with him-

"Oh for fuck's sake, stop crying you big baby."

Harry snapped his head up at the sound of a familiar voice, relief coursing through him as Ellis strode into the kitchen, Ron and George hovering just behind him in the doorway.

"Excuse me," Hermione said indignantly, standing up and drawing herself up to her full height. "Who on earth do you think-"

"Hermione, it's okay," Harry croaked, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand and shifting Scorpius to the side. "This is Ellis-"

"I gathered," Hermione said tartly, obviously still unimpressed. Ellis paid her no attention and instead walked over to Harry, leaning on the table.

"I told you so," he said shortly, and then dropped to his knees to look at Harry and Scorpius. "Hello short-one," he said to Scorpius, who didn't reply, holding tightly on Harry's fingers. "I work for the Ministry of Magic and I help the Aurors. You know what Aurors are, right?"

Scorpius nodded, eyes wide and wary. He still looked sleepy, blinking slowly and tiredly, but at least he'd stopped sobbing.

Ellis shifted on his knees, rubbing his palms down the denim on his thighs. "So we're looking for someone who looks like you, but quite a lot taller?"

Scorpius stared at him for a long moment and then nodded. "Are you going to go and find him?" he asked, his voice small.

Ellis nodded. "Just need a word with this big cry-baby here," he said, jerking his head towards Harry. "And then I'll go and track him down. Can you give us five minutes?"

Scorpius looked unsure, and Harry couldn't really blame him. "I want to stay with Harry," Scorpius said, looking upset once more. "I don't want to go."

"Three minutes?" Ellis asked, tone somewhere between exasperated and hopeful.

Scorpius shook his head, now looking frightened. "I want to stay with Harry," he repeated, twisting around to look at Harry. "I want to stay with you," he said, and there were tears welling up in his eyes again.

"Can you take him?" Ellis asked, eyeing Scorpius warily and turning around to look at Hermione. "You know, woman's touch and all that?"

"He's never met his mother, so I doubt a _woman's touch_ will do the trick," Hermione said shortly. "And he wants to stay with Harry."

"Christ. This is why I hate children," Ellis muttered and then drew his wand. He flicked it at Scorpius who screamed and tried to kick out at him, twisting in Harry's arms.

"Ellis, for fuck's sake!" Harry shouted, shoving him away with a hand. "What did you do?"

"Temporary _muffliato_ so he can't hear us," Ellis said indignantly, looking as if he were resisting the urge to shove Harry back. "I have a job to do, I'm not sitting around waiting on a brat."

"But that's-" Harry began hotly, holding Scorpius to him and resting his hand on the back of his head. Scorpius twisted around to look at Ellis, hurt and distrust written all over his face.

"Shut up, you want to get Malfoy back, right?" Ellis said impatiently. "The longer we fuck about here, the harder he's going to be to find."

Harry swore under his breath. He looked down at Scorpius and nodded at him with his eyebrows raised in question. Scorpius nodded back, resting his head against Harry's cheek and holding on around his neck, eyes once again on Ellis.

"Right. What happened?" Ellis said promptly. "Details included please."

Harry took a deep breath. Despite Ellis's blatant lack of tact or compassion as far as Scorpius was concerned, his presence gave him strength. Ellis would be as ruthless as he needed to be to find Draco, and as worrying as that was from certain perspectives, it was exactly what Harry needed.

"We went to the café on Clumber road. The Corner Café," harry began, shutting his eyes. "We walked from mine, through the avenue."

"What time?" Ellis asked, eyes intent.

"About half eleven," Harry said. "We had Scorpius and Teddy with us."

"The godson?" Ellis asked. "What about your two brats?"

Harry shook his head, immeasurably grateful that they hadn't been there to witness. "No. Scorpius was upset that they weren't there, which is why we went out."

Ellis's eyes flickered over Scorpius, a small frown on his face. "Alright," he said slowly, and then looked back to Harry. "Next?"

"We went in, sat in a window booth," Harry said. He looked up at Hermione who was still standing behind Ellis, arms folded across her chest. She was biting her lip and looked troubled, but Harry was still grateful for her presence. He could hear Ron and George conversing out of sight in the next room and had to fight down the need to be part of the conversation.

"Keep going," Ellis prompted.

"We ordered food, sat down, Draco went to the toilet and didn't come back. Teddy went to the toilet and came back saying Draco was gone, so I got up and went to check and he wasn't there. There was just – there was blood. All over once of the sinks and the wall."

Ellis blew a breath out between his teeth, rubbing his jaw. "Well, Teddy would be our number one suspect if it weren't for the fact he's ten," he said, and then climbed to his feet. "Was there anyone else in the café?"

Harry nodded. "An elderly couple and a family with two kids. And the owner. None of them went near the toilets."

"And you didn't go in to the toilets? Only when Teddy said he was gone?"

Harry shook his head. "Can you find him?" he asked urgently.

Ellis looked at him blankly. "How should I bloody know?" he said. "I'll give it a damn good try though. Right. I'm going to your place to set up wards in case he turns up there, and then we'll start hunting."

Harry nodded. "Who are you taking with you?" he asked as Ellis stood up, Hermione moving back to give him space.

Ellis smiled grimly. "Roberts and his team are ready to go," he said. "If who we think has taken Malfoy has taken him, then it could be a potential lead."

Harry nearly cried with relief at the news that the Aurors were taking this as seriously as he needed them to. "Thank you," he managed to say. Ellis just waved his hand dismissively at him, then flicked his wand at Scorpius to remove the spell.

"I'll send news as soon as I know," Ellis said, and turned to Hermione. "Don't let him leave. He's not allowed to get involved and I'd hate to have to punch him in the face."

Hermione stared at Ellis. "You have a way with words," she said, but did hold out her hand for Ellis to shake. Ellis took it and briefly shook her hand, before – to Harry's surprise –turning to Scorpius.

"Right. I'm going to find your dad," he said, and then held out his hand to Scorpius too as an apparent afterthought. "Sorry about the whole pointing my wand at you thing."

Scorpius shook his head and Ellis sighed dramatically. "Why do I bother?" he shrugged, and then clapped Harry on the shoulder and walked off out of sight.

"He's strange," Scorpius mumbled, and Harry managed a choked laugh.

"I know he is," Harry said softly. "But he's very good at his job. He's the best person to have looking for your papa."

Scorpius nodded, fingers pulling at the hair on the nape of Harry's neck like Al often did when he was tired. "I wish you knew where he was. You always rescue him."

"Well this time, I'm staying to look after you, and there's a whole lot of people much cleverer than me looking for him," Harry said. Scorpius nodded again but didn't reply, and Harry felt another flash of guilt at the thought he wasn't out there looking for Draco himself.

"Roberts is an Auror, yes? Someone you work with?" Hermione asked gently, picking up the tea that Harry had forgotten and pushing it towards him. Harry shook his head but she didn't relent, and he finally gave in and took a mouthful. He couldn't taste the calming potion but the moment he swallowed he felt the tension inside him unwind fractionally; enough for his organs to feel normal again, but not enough to dispel the fear and worry.

"Yeah, he's an Auror," Harry finally answered her question. "One of the best. Working on Hightops."

Hermione bit her lip again. "So they think the gang..." she trailed off, glancing at Scorpius.

Harry shrugged. "Who else would have reason to take him?" he said, trying to hold his voice steady and feeling exhausted. "But then again, Ellis was so damn sure that they wouldn't want him any longer, considering he'd had contact with me..."

He broke off, shaking his head. He didn't have any answers, no matter how desperately he wished he did. He would just have to have some faith in the people around him, and trust that they would be able to bring Draco home. God, he'd not felt worry like this in such a long time, not had to deal with the sickening twist of emotions that made his heart feel like it was in the wrong place.

"They'll find him," Hermione said softly. Harry nodded and then reached out to down the rest of the tea, gulping it down before setting the mug aside and sinking back into the chair.

"Want to move somewhere comfier?" Hermione asked.

"No," Harry said tiredly. "We're fine here."

Hermione nodded, and then turned her head as she heard a wail from somewhere in the house. "You okay if I go to Rose?" she asked, and Harry smiled weakly, waving her away. She reached out to gently touch his cheek and then turned away. As she went, Harry noted that the rest of the house had fallen quiet; Ron and George had presumably left with Ellis to go and search for Draco.

What Harry wouldn't give to hear that bored drawl behind him, taking the mickey out of him for being such a mess. He'd even take angry-drunk Draco back at this point in time, anything to know he was safe. Not knowing was the worst feeling in the world, and he had to force himself to stop thinking of all the things that could have happened to Draco. Instead he found himself thinking back to the time before he and Draco had worked things out between them, that odd time when they realised they liked each other but weren't confident enough to make a move. He remembered sitting at his kitchen table and explaining to Draco how he'd come out of the closet. He remembered Draco explaining about his job, how he managed to do it - oh god, they had to get Draco back, what if the gang forced him back into his old life? What if-

He mentally cut himself off again. He couldn't go down that road, not now.

"Can I go and get panda?" Scorpius whispered, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

"Not today mate," Harry whispered back. "You'll have to make do with me."

Scorpius didn't reply, but neither did he whine or make a fuss. Harry sighed and tipped his head back against the wood of the chair he was sitting on. It wasn't comfortable at all, but he couldn't find the wherewithal to move. Scorpius was comfortable enough leaning against him so that was enough.

He could hear Hermione padding about upstairs, her footsteps echoing dully through the floorboards. In a way he was glad to be here and not at home; seeing his house without Draco in it would be just too hard to bear.

He couldn't help but wonder how long they would be left here waiting. The minutes seemed to be taking far too long to tick by, so the thought of hours or even days was unbearable. Even with the calming potion he still felt the urge to get up and go help the search; he fleetingly debated whether he should try and see if Scorpius would stay here for an hour just so he could nip out and check on things. He decided against it with a sinking stomach; Scorpius was still holding tightly to him and he knew in his heart of hearts that he wouldn't just be able to go out for an hour. If he went, he wouldn't settle again until Draco was found.

A while later, Hermione reappeared in the doorway, Rose in her arms. She walked over and silently pulled out the chair next to Harry, but didn't speak. He was grateful; he just wanted to sit with Scorpius and be alone with his-

He and Hermione both looked around as the floo in the front room audibly flared to life. Harry's heart jolted and he sat up straight, thinking of Ron but praying for Draco-

His heart jumped up another notch into his mouth as Ellis ran in, panting and slumping against the doorframe. "Am I fucking good or what?"

Harry was on his feet before he knew it, shifting Scorpius onto his hip, his whole body taught and tense. "What? You've-" he tried to say. He didn't dare say it out loud in case he was wrong. Ellis nodded breathlessly, and Hermione was on her feet too, looking from Ellis to Harry, wide-eyed.

"Ellis!" Harry almost-shouted, trembling from head to foot, not even caring that Ellis was trying to catch his breath.

Ellis took a deep breath. "Yes. Yes, we found him."

Harry stared at him, his mouth hanging open and his heart swelling inside his chest, his stomach turning itself inside out with relief. "And is he okay?" he asked frantically. "Where is he?"

Ellis didn't reply. He looked down at the floor and Harry felt a wave of foreboding wash over him, cold and damp and uncomfortable. "Ellis?" he asked, clutching Scorpius close.

"He's alright," Ellis said, but he didn't sound right, there was something off about the way he said it.

"What aren't you saying?" Harry asked roughly. "Why isn't he here?"

Ellis sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I-" he began.

"Just say it," Harry insisted. "Don't fuck about-"

"You're going to have to put the kid down," Ellis said bluntly, dropping his hand and drawing his wand, looking thoroughly unhappy.

"Why?" Harry asked, instinctively tightening his grip on Scorpius.

"Because Malfoy's been obliviated to within an inch of his life," Ellis said grimly, and Harry felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as Ellis continued. "Which means…fuck. It means I've got to arrest you."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Harry stared at Ellis for what felt like an eternity. The kitchen clock was ticking loudly on the wall, even though to everyone in the room it felt that time had stopped. Ellis just stood there looking at the floor, wand in hand, expression absolutely gutted.

"You can't seriously think-" Harry began faintly, his voice seeming raw and far too loud. "You think I did this?"

Ellis shook his head and looked up at him, face twisted in an almost-scowl. "Don't be thick, of course not," he said. "But from our point of view, he's been obliviated, and you're an obliviator who has been involved with him and was there when it happened."

"How much does he remember?" Harry asked roughly. "Ellis?"

Ellis shook his head. "I can't tell you. You're under arrest."

"Like fuck I am!" Harry took a step back, shifting Scorpius as he went for his own wand. He'd barely reached for it when Hermione swiftly stood up, standing in front of him and grabbing his wrist with her free hand.

"Don't," she said urgently, balancing Rose on her hip and holding on tightly so Harry couldn't get to his wand. "Harry, don't. All they'll do is question you under veritaserum-"

"But I didn't-"

"We know," she said, her tone troubled but firm. "Harry, look at me. They just need to make sure, for Draco's sake."

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again, defeated. He felt something dangerous swirling in the pit of his stomach, some blind fury that wanted to smash things, to run away, to punch Ellis straight in the face. The words _obliviated to within an inch of his life _echoed around his mind and over on the table, the mug he'd been drinking from shattered into pieces.

"Potter! Calm down!" Ellis said, alarmed. "Now is not the time for smashing shit!"

"Then tell me what's happened!" Harry shouted back. "What's happened to him? Why haven't you brought him home?"

"Because he doesn't remember you, alright?" Ellis yelled. "And we can't legally let you take him until we have proof you didn't do it!"

The kitchen fell silent once again. Harry couldn't even move; all he could do was stand there with Ellis's words ringing in his ears.

_He doesn't remember you, alright?_

With growing horror, Harry realised that meant that Draco wouldn't remember that he was Harry's partner, wouldn't remember that he lived with Harry, wouldn't remember everything they had been through together.

He took a blind step back, and felt Hermione catch him and guide him into a chair. He stared blankly at the floor, unable to even think. Numbness slowly spread from his chest into his limbs; his mind faltered and then went blank, unable to comprehend what that meant-

"Potter," Ellis said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "The sooner we get this sorted, the sooner you can have him back."

The words were like a knife to the gut; what was the fucking point in getting Draco back if he didn't even recognise him? Would Draco trust him? Would Draco even want to come back with Harry if he didn't know who he was?

"I-" he began, voice cracking. "I can't leave Scorpius."

Ellis shook his head. "You can't bring him."

Harry stared for a moment, trying to collect himself. He suddenly felt exhausted; his emotions were being dragged and forth all over the place with every new piece of information they collected. Christ, Draco had only been missing for less than an hour and his emotions had been up and down more times than he could count.

"You have found Papa?" Scorpius asked suddenly, his voice trembling.

"Yeah we have," Ellis said, and then paused briefly. "The healers are just checking he's okay and then we'll bring him home."

Harry found himself grateful for the lie. Scorpius clutched him tightly around the neck, no doubt overwhelmed by the news. "I want to see him," he whispered to Harry, the words coming out like a plea.

There was nothing for it, Harry realised. He had to go to the Ministry to fetch Draco for Scorpius's sake if not his own, and that mean firstly going through the questioning process. Not that he could get away without it really, considering he was officially under arrest. The anger at being dragged into this mess as a suspect faded enough for him to think more calmly; it was just something to get through in order to get back to Draco. One step at a time.

Harry turned to Scorpius. "I'm going to fetch him," he promised, although the words tore at his throat. "How about we ask Luna to come and sit with you and then I can go and get him?"

"I want to come with you," Scorpius said, his voice rising in pitch. "I want my Papa-"

"Hey, hey, calm down," Harry said, trying to keep his voice gentle and level. "He's safe, and he'll be back before you know it."

"Promise?" Scorpius asked, lip trembling. Harry bit his own lip, overwhelmed by the bravery of the small boy in front of him.

"Promise," he said quietly. He knew that no matter what part he played in this story, Scorpius's was far more important. Scorpius was Draco's son, his only child, and getting them back together was important than anything else. Harry knew he wouldn't hesitate for a moment if asked to choose between someone and his children; it didn't matter what he wanted, his kids had to come first.

He looked to Hermione. "Can you see if Luna can…?"

Hermione nodded, understanding before he'd even finished the sentence. She left the kitchen without a word, heading to the floo to try and track down Luna. She was the only person that Harry could think to leave Scorpius with; aside from Draco and Harry, she was probably the one who Scorpius had had most contact with, the one he'd possibly trust the most.

"I'm not going until she gets here," Harry said dully, sensing Ellis's eyes on him.

"I'm not a completely heartless bastard," was the terse reply, and Harry took that as it being okay for him to stay with Scorpius for the time being. He sat down again; his arms were aching and his legs still didn't feel as steady as they could be.

"So, who's questioning me then?" he asked, knowing how belligerent he sounded and not quite able to care.

"Roberts," Ellis snorted, and somehow Harry knew why it was funny, in a very convoluted sort of way. "I'm recording," Ellis added. "Not that that matters."

The quiet _whoosh_ of flames from the next room cut the conversation short; Harry looked up in time to see Luna walking into the room, expression calm. She was wearing an orange skirt over blue tights with a green jumper, and out the corner of his eye Harry caught Ellis staring with raised eyebrows. He chose to ignore him.

"Hello Scorpius," Luna said with a small sad smile. "Oh dear me, you look so sad."

Harry felt Scorpius's grip tighten on him slightly. "I need you to be brave," he whispered, even though he felt nothing of the sort. "Stay with Luna for a while whilst I fetch your papa."

Scorpius didn't speak or even move for several long moments. Harry waited it out, holding his breath, and then eventually Scorpius shifted, holding a hand out towards Luna and nodding slightly. Luna stepped over and gently took his hand, allowing Harry to slip Scorpius off his knee onto the chair. Scorpius leant into Luna's side and she placed a gentle hand on the side of his head, stroking the hair just above his ear. She'd be a wonderful mother when her time came, Harry thought suddenly, and then swallowed and looked at Scorpius.

"I'll be back before you know it," he said, and then had to turn away because if he looked at Scorpius's small frightened face any longer he knew he wouldn't be able to leave.

"Of course you will," Luna said, and then Harry heard her speak to Scorpius. "And if you hold tight, Al and James are on the way as well."

Harry looked up as Hermione stepped forwards from the front-room. "I thought I'd let Ginny know," she said quietly, holding onto Rose's hand. Rose was as quiet as ever, leaning against Hermione's shoulder with her free thumb wedged in her mouth and big wide eyes on Harry. "She's bringing the boys over to be with Scorpius. I thought that'd help."

Harry didn't speak. He couldn't find the words to tell her how grateful he was for all their support, for everything they were doing. Merlin knew he needed them - and would do for some time to come if what Ellis had said about Draco was true.

"I'm sorry," Ellis's voice said behind him, and Harry knew he meant it. He nodded wordlessly and allowed himself to be steered out the room and towards the floo without looking back.

* * *

><p>Harry had never felt like a criminal in his life, not even when he'd been named <em>Undesirable Number One <em>and had been hounded the length and breadth of the country. Not even when he'd broken into Gringott's with the blatant intention of stealing. The only moment that came close to this one was a distant memory of being fifteen and standing trial for casting a bloody patronus to save his and Dudley's life. However, walking through the Ministry with Ellis's hand on his elbow, with people glancing his way and then muttering to their colleagues, he felt as if he were about to go to Azkaban.

He kept his eyes down, trying to ignore how everyone was looking at him. He wondered how many of them knew what had happened, or if they were just speculating and gossiping. He wondered if Draco knew he was coming for him, though to Draco all it would appear was that some man named Harry was on the way to pick him up.

He still didn't know how Draco had gotten away, if that was even what had happened. He'd expected it to take hours, if not days to find him, but it had in reality been less than an hour. He was relieved, of course he was, but to discover that Draco had been found only to be told that he'd been obliviated…he could only wish over and over that this had never happened. _Why me? _echoed in his mind, and he felt an urge to laugh. He'd been asking that all his bloody life, and it seemed he'd been an idiot to expect the universe to cut him a break now.

Again, it seemed so unfair. His tentative and fleeting thoughts of a happy reunion had been dashed to the ground before they'd even been properly formed.

He looked up, breathing in heavily through his nose, and caught sight of Valerie staring avidly at them, mouth hanging open. _Great, _Harry thought dully. Just what he needed; Valerie was bound to tell everyone she knew what she'd witnessed, and Harry knew her thirst for gossip outweighed any consideration for the person she was talking about.

"Fucking busybodies," Ellis snarled under his breath, steering Harry out of sight down the corridor that led to the Auror department. Harry knew where he was going; he'd observed questioning a few times before but never had he anticipated that he would ever be on the other side of the charmed mirror that hung in every questioning room.

"Stop looking like that," Ellis said, glancing at Harry and frowning as he walked them up to the door that led to the questioning rooms. "You look like you've actually done something wrong."

"Well I listened to you when you said Draco was safe," Harry said before he could stop himself. Ellis's hand faltered on the door handle and Harry saw him wince slightly.

"I may have made a minor miscalculation there-" he began.

In a flash, Harry had Ellis's shirt in his fists and shoved him against the wall next to the door, blind fury tearing through him. "A minor miscalculation?" he shouted. "My fucking life is in pieces _again_, and that's all you can fucking say?!"

"You were the one who listened to me," Ellis snapped back, meeting Harry's eyes without wavering. "Now get the fuck off me. Believe me, looking out for your fucking boyfriend isn't the only thing on my plate at the moment."

"You fucking-"

"Harry, _let him go._"

They both looked around sharply to see the door had opened whilst they'd been fighting. Roberts was standing there, looking at them both with a weary expression, wand in hand.

"Let him go," Roberts repeated. "Or I'll add assault to the list of potential charges, and unfortunately you won't get away on the technicality that Ellis is being an arsehole."

Swallowing down his anger, Harry let go of Ellis and stepped back, threading his fingers into his hair. Ellis merely pushed himself off the wall and straightened his shirt, before looking at Harry.

"I am sorry," he said flatly. "Take it out on me later if you want, but right now we need to sort this."

"Don't bloody encourage him," Roberts muttered, but stood back to let Ellis and Harry though without any further ado. Harry heaved out a breath, cursing himself for losing his temper, and in the middle of the Ministry of all places. He felt wound too tightly to function; he ached with the need to see Draco, to know for himself that he was safe, no matter what state he was in. That could be sorted later - for now Harry just wanted to see him, to touch him, to have him close.

"Room four," Roberts said grimly, and in a flash Harry remembered leading Draco to cell four all that time ago, remembered how drunk he was and how much of a pain he'd been. The memory faded as Harry was led into room four, Ellis and Roberts following close behind him.

Harry hated these rooms. He'd much have preferred a Muggle-style questioning room; minimal and plain, not much different to the actual cells. These questioning rooms had burgundy patterned carpets and deep red wallpaper, paintings on the walls and a cabinet by the door. In this particular one there was a small lamp on a corner table, and in the middle of the room stood an oak table with two high-backed velvet chairs next to it. It was like a tiny, old-fashioned sitting room, and Harry found it intensely claustrophobic. Heart heavy, he walked over to one of the chairs and pulled it away from the table, slumping down into it and leaning on the arm, head resting on his fist. He glanced over at the large gold-framed mirror that hung crookedly next to a portrait of an elderly wizard, wondering if anyone was watching him from the other side. Quite probably, he thought dully. There would be loads of people wanting to catch sight of Harry Potter under arrest, no matter if he was actually innocent.

"Let's get this over with quickly, yeah?" Ellis said tersely as he edged in, leaning against the cabinet by the door. "And can we have it on record that I think this is a fucking waste of time?"

"Duly noted," Roberts said shortly as she shut the door and waved his wand across the room, presumably checking the wards. "Now shut the fuck up."

Harry watched him lock the door, feeling a dull ache brewing in his temples. He just wanted to go home, and wondered somewhere in the back of his mind if he could use his name to get his hands on a time-turner, to go back to this morning and refuse to get out of bed, to keep Draco wrapped up with him and do nothing but kiss him all day-

"Right, Harry James Potter, you have been arrested for questioning by the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic, in relation to an on-going criminal investigation. This session will be recorded via the memory of Jacob Ellis, who is present with us now."

"Get on with it," Harry said tonelessly. "I'm in a rush."

"Protocol," Roberts replied shortly. "Do you consent to questioning under veriteserum?"

"Yes," Harry said listlessly, and Roberts nodded, walking over the cabinet and motioning for Ellis to get out of the way. He unlocked the front, revealing countless small vials full of colourless liquid, all lined up neatly in ordered rows. He picked one out and tossed it over to Harry, who caught it reflexively in one hand.

"I won't put you through this particular protocol," Roberts said, and Harry jerked his head in acknowledgement. He didn't much fancy the indignity of having one of his colleagues feed him the potion, and was thankful that they were letting him do it himself. As such, he quickly snapped the wax seal off the potion and drank it in one, dropping the empty vial back to the table. He swallowed and then opened his mouth to prove that he'd done it.

"Is your name Harry James Potter?" Roberts asked, sitting down in the chair opposite Harry's and looking even more tired than usual. Harry couldn't blame him for looking harried; he was trying to crack a crime ring and here he'd ended up questioning one of his own employees about the abduction of a fucking rentboy who only had tenuous connections to the people that he was actually after.

"Yes."

"Are you under the influence of polyjuice potion?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

"Are you using any charms, potions or hexes that may alter your appearance?"

"No."

"Right, mandatory questions over." Roberts paused. "Do you know one Draco Malfoy?"

Harry's heart skipped, and he lifted his head off his fist. "Yes."

"How do you know him?"

Harry looked up at the ceiling, blowing out a breath and trying to keep his emotions under control. "He's my partner. He lives with me. I've known him since I was eleven, from Hogwarts."

There was a long pause. Harry refused to look down, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes.

"Have you ever obliviated Draco Malfoy?"

Harry bit back a bitter laugh. "No."

"Have you ever cursed Draco Malfoy?"

Harry's chest twinged. "Yes," he admitted, finally looking down but still averting his gaze from the others. "Years ago. In my sixth year at school. And maybe other times at school, I can't remember."

"But never obliviate?" Roberts pressed.

"I said no, didn't I?" Harry snapped.

Roberts held his hands up in a pacifying gesture. "Do you know who took Draco Malfoy from the Corner Café at about eleven thirty this morning?"

"No," Harry said, rubbing his brow. "I know he was involved with the Hightops case somewhere and they may have taken him, but I don't know for certain."

Roberts heaved out a sigh. "That's enough for me," he said. "Potter, you can go. You are no longer under arrest, and are no longer part of any investigation by the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic."

"Thank fuck for that," Harry muttered. "Can I see Draco?"

"You know that-" Roberts began, and broke off, looking uneasy.

"Yeah, he knows," Ellis said tiredly, pushing away from the wall he'd been leaning on. He walked over to the cupboard that had held the vials of veriterserum and reached in to pick up an empty vial. Harry watched as he placed his wand to his temple and slowly drew out a shining silver strand of memory, depositing it into the vial and sealing it. He passed it to Roberts who nodded curtly in thanks. Harry wondered what would happen if they tried to draw Draco's memories out; would there be nothing there? Or would the memories be nothing more than empty strands of magic?

"Come on. He's in the break room and he's already drank ten thousand cups of tea. Any more and he won't sleep for a week," Ellis said, and Harry felt his heart clench painfully. He wanted to see Draco so badly it hurt, but he kept remembering Ellis's warning that Draco wouldn't recognise him. He could only hope that when Draco saw him it would all come back.

"I knew you hadn't done it," Ellis said abruptly as they left the room, slipping his hand into his pocket and drawing out Harry's wand, passing it back without a word. Harry was grateful; according to the rules Ellis should have handed in Harry's wand to security, and he knew getting a wand back could be a nightmare if they were busy.

"Yeah?" Harry asked wearily, rubbing his brow and slipping his wand back into his pocket with his other hand.

"Well, yeah," Ellis said as he started to walk down the corridor, Harry at his side. "Because first off, you're too noble to obliviate your lover-boy, no matter what had gone off. And second, whoever did it monumentally fucked it up, and you're not that useless."

Harry stopped in his tracks. "How fucked up?" he asked, hating how shaky his voice came out.

"It didn't come out linear," Ellis said, and Harry forced his feet to follow him. "He remembers being sorted at Hogwarts but not anything else from school. He remembers his mother dying but can't remember her name. He can still fucking well still speak French but has no recollection of ever being in France."

Harry swallowed. "Has anything started coming back? Is it fragmented or a complete block?"

"Well, it seemed to be a complete block to begin with, but now it looks more fragmented," Ellis said. "He's remembered his second name since we found him, but that's not much proof of anything. I reckon the Healer hopes that when he sees you it might jump start something."

Harry didn't reply. He didn't need to say out loud that he hoped the same; Ellis would know that already. He found himself fiercely berating himself for even leaving the house that morning, because if they hadn't then none of this would have happened.

"How did you find him?" Harry asked. "Did you catch who took him?"

Ellis shook his head. "We didn't pick him up. The Muggle police did," he said ruefully. "Absolute fucking nightmare. Witnesses say he was spotted legging it out of an alley with three blokes chasing him, and then they go on to say there was an inexplicable flash of red light, then he falls to the floor and the three blokes try to grab him. Some Muggle lads chased whoever it was off and called the police, which is when he dropped in. We had to obliviate all the people who'd seen him get stunned, as well as the police who turned up. Logistical nightmare. They're still cleaning up now."

"How did he get away in the first place?" Harry asked, feeling sick at the thought of Draco being chased down like that.

"No idea," Ellis said, and paused. "He hasn't got his wand."

Harry groaned. "Fucking great." He found himself more upset by the news that he should really have been; that wand had played such an important part in him and Draco making amends - hell, that wand had played a huge part in saving the fucking world. To hear it was gone was a blow that Harry couldn't deny.

He'd barely finished pondering the fate of Draco's wand when Ellis stopped walking. Harry looked up and his heart lurched as he saw they were outside the Aurors' break room. It was one of the least used rooms in the whole of the Ministry as far as Harry knew; Aurors rarely got breaks, never mind ones long enough to make use of such a room.

"Go on," Ellis said when Harry didn't move. "Man up."

Harry shook his head. "What if he still doesn't…?" he began, staring at the door and feeling unnerved. Behind it was Draco, and that should be a cause for celebration, but it couldn't be, not when Draco didn't remember him.

"Well, you'll never know," Ellis began awkwardly. "Put it this way, what have you got to lose? Besides, this isn't just about you. You've got to take him back to his kid."

The words galvanised Harry into action. He nodded jerkily, took a deep breath, and reached for the door handle. Feeling like his knees were about to give way, Harry stepped inside and then stopped dead, his heart stuttering painfully in his chest.

Draco was sitting there on a low chair, elbows on his knees and looking exactly as he had that morning. As he looked up, fingertips pressing against his mouth, he spotted Harry standing in the doorway and then froze, eyes wide. He slowly lowered his hands, shocked gaze flickering from Ellis to Harry.

"You," he said, his voice trembling as he pushed himself to his feet. "You-"

"You know who he is?" Ellis asked, holding Harry back with a hand on his chest. Harry's heart was in his mouth, hoping and praying and fighting the urge to run over and physically grab hold of him. Draco stared at Harry for what felt like an eternity. Harry could only hold his gaze and pray to whoever was listening that the next word out of Draco's mouth would be-

"No," Draco said, reaching up to put his hands on his head, his voice broken. "I feel like I should, but I just can't remember-"

He slumped back down onto the chair, holding his head in his hands, fingers gripping blond strands. Harry felt his chin tremble and took a deep steadying breath in, then released it.

"Well," he said, forcing his voice to be light. "It could be worse."

"It could be a lot worse, idiot," Ellis said in an undertone. "He recognises you, but he can't remember why. That's a sign of potential fragmentation. It's not like he's not felt anything."

Harry knew that; he was an obliviator, for fuck's sake. Although Draco saying he felt he should remember Harry was small comfort when he still didn't.

It was horrible. Harry could only stand there and look helplessly at Draco, who was still holding his head in his hands, his eyes clenched tightly shut. Harry honestly didn't know who it was worse for; Draco not being able to remember a thing, or him being able to remember everything and thus knowing exactly what he could potentially lose.

"I've got to go get some paperwork for you to sign before you can go," Ellis said. "Will you be alright with him?"

Harry nodded jerkily, and Ellis clapped him on the shoulder before turning away. "Don't leave before you sign or I'll have to arrest you again," he called over his shoulder, and Harry felt a familiar but fleeting urge to swear at him.

He turned his attention back to Draco, who still hadn't moved. Harry tried to clear his throat, wondering what the hell to say. Should he introduce himself? Would Draco know who Harry Potter was, even if he didn't recognise Harry standing in front of him? God, even _hello_ seemed so pointless and stupid, so saying anything more seemed completely redundant. Swallowing painfully, Harry slowly walked over and then knelt down in front of him, still giving him plenty of space.

"Draco," he whispered, his voice still seeming far too loud. Draco looked up again, his eyes tormented and swimming with tears, just as Scorpius's had been earlier.

"Looking at you is like having bad déjà vu," he said desperately, pressing his temples with his fingers. "How do I know you?"

Harry looked at him for a moment, grief aching in his chest, dull and relentless. "We live together," he finally said, and Draco looked up sharply. "We share a house," Harry amended, looking down at his knees. "We were friends – we are friends from school."

Draco continued to stare at him, breathing uneven in his chest, eyes darting over Harry's face. Harry wanted so badly to lean in and kiss him, to hold Draco in his arms and kiss that mouth over and over, but he couldn't let himself. How would it be fair on Draco to do that when he didn't even remember Harry? Or would it be best just to do it, to try and shock Draco enough so that his memories came back? Harry knew it was a possibility – but if he _did _kiss him and the memories still didn't come back, then he'd be left trying to explain why he'd just taken it upon himself to kiss Draco. Simply saying '_you're my boyfriend,_' seemed not enough to do what they had justice. Harry would need days – weeks – to explain it all, to make everything make sense.

He drew a breath in and raised his eyes as Draco carefully lifted his hand and brushed Harry's fringe aside, looking at the scar on his forehead. "I know that…" Draco said slowly, and then abruptly moved his hand and covered his own eyes with the heels of his palms. "But I can't remember why," he said miserably.

Harry swallowed thickly. He didn't know what to do. The desire to tell Draco everything was still strong, but deep down he knew he shouldn't. Draco was so vulnerable right now, and Harry honestly didn't know if _he _would cope if he chose to tell Draco everything, only for him to still not remember. It would make things unbearably awkward between the two of them, and Draco didn't have anywhere else to go but with Harry.

"Don't worry," he said, the words sounding oddly hollow. "It's a good sign, that feeling of déjà vu. Things should come back to you, it might just take time."

Draco looked helplessly at him. "I could only remember my first name when they found me. That's an awful lot of stuff to come back."

Harry didn't know what to say. Heart heavy, he stood up, rubbing tiredly at the side of his face. "Come on, let's go chase that paperwork up," he said. "Scorpius will pitch a fit if you're not back soon."

He turned towards the door, but Draco's next words stopped him dead in his tracks, dread coursing through his veins.

"Who's Scorpius?"

Harry had to shut his eyes, convinced that if there were any point that he was going to burst into tears, it would be then. He breathed in and out through his mouth, threading his fingers into his hair and praying that Draco was fucking about.

He slowly turned, and as he saw Draco's vulnerable look of uncertainty, the rest of his world came crashing down around him.

It wasn't just him that Draco didn't remember.

He swallowed, trying to keep himself under control. "I think you better come and see for yourself."

* * *

><p>Harry stepped out of the fireplace in Ron and Hermione's sitting room, resting his hand against the mantelpiece as he waited for Draco to follow. He leant in and pressed his forehead to the back of his hand, still fighting the urge to cry.<p>

"Harry?"

He turned to see Ron and Hermione walking in to the room, looking troubled. "We got your message," Ron said uncertainly. "Is he…?"

Harry shook his head tersely. He didn't want to speak. If he did he was likely to smash something. Appearing to understand, Hermione and Ron backed out of the room. They didn't go far; Harry could still hear their low voices talking outside in the corridor.

Seconds later the cool, green flames flared into life and Draco appeared, still looking as uncertain as he had done back at the Ministry. Harry held out a hand without thinking, and it was only when Draco grasped it to help steady himself as he stepped out of the fireplace did it really hit him: he might never be able to touch Draco again.

"Sit down," Harry said, nodding towards the sofa. "I think you better."

Draco complied without as much as a question. Obliviated Draco was turning out to be very polite and compliant and Harry was already beginning to hate him with a passion. He couldn't quite believe it, but he found he wanted the suspicious looks back, the demanding questions, the arguments over inconsequential things. He wanted the snark and the bad temper back; he wanted anything back that would make Draco seem remotely Draco-like again.

"Right, I have to tell you about this, but it's not going to be easy." Harry said bluntly, turning to look at Draco. "Your mind isn't as strong as it should be, because you've been obliviated badly."

"Do I have to know?" Draco asked fearfully. He was sat stiffly with his hands clasped together in his lap, and looked so uncomfortable it hurt Harry to see.

"Yes," Harry said simply, a small selfish part of him wishing that he could tell Draco about them instead.

"Alright, I-"

Draco broke off and frowned as they heard a scream and racing footsteps just outside the room. Harry heard Hermione exclaim in alarm, he swore and lunged across the room to shut the door but he was too late; Scorpius burst in, out of breath and looking around wildly.

"Papa!"

Draco's face went deathly pale and all Harry could do was helplessly watch as Scorpius ran across the room and flung himself onto Draco, sobbing fit to burst. Draco just sat there, open mouthed and pale, and Harry felt a frisson of panic run down his spine at the lack of reaction. Scorpius was crying and Draco was just sitting there staring, mouth hanging open and hands violently trembling.

_Please no, _a small voice inside Harry said. _Please, just remember him. I don't even care if you don't remember me, just remember him._

"You didn't come back," Scorpius sobbed. "You always come back, you said you would always come back."

Harry watched as Draco's eyes widened in response to the words. He stayed perfectly still but then Draco jerkily looked down, reaching with a trembling hand to touch Scorpius's hair.

"Scorpius," he whispered, and then he roughly pushed Scorpius back, cupping his small face in his hands so he could look at him. Scorpius clung onto him with his fingers fisted in the material of Draco's shirt, refusing to let go. Harry watched, holding his breath, and then comprehension dawned on Draco's face, his jaw going slack and his eyes widening a moment before he burst into tears.

"Scorpius, oh my god," Draco said, pulling Scorpius into a hug and holding him tight, slipping off the edge of his seat and onto his knees, clutching Scorpius as if he were never going to let him go. "I remember-" Draco said, his voice choked, looking frantically at Harry. "I remember him-"

Harry took a step back and slumped against the wall, raising a hand to take off his glasses and rub his eye sockets with his knuckles. God, he couldn't remember ever being so relieved in his life – well, maybe that time he'd realised that he wasn't actually dead, but that was so long ago he couldn't really compare.

"Scorpius," he heard Draco say, his voice thick with tears and laughter. "You're my son and you like spaghetti and you like panda bears and you can count all the way to a hundred and you're so, so brave."

"I know, why are you telling me?" Scorpius replied with a frown, and Draco just laughed and cried harder, pulling him into a hug. Harry felt tears pricking at his own eyes again. It was bittersweet; on one hand he was so happy that Draco remembered Scorpius, but Draco still didn't remember him.

"I'll leave you two for a minute," he said. "Call me if you need anything."

"Thank you," Draco said, holding Scorpius close and stroking the back of his head. "I can't – _thank you._"

Harry had to leave the room. Hearing Draco thanking him so sincerely was just too painful; Draco had no idea of all the other things Harry had done for him, and he always used to find it so difficult to say thank you and now he was all _different _and Harry couldn't-

"Harry," a gentle voice said, and he looked up to see Ginny walking towards him. She held out a hand wordlessly and Harry reached for it immediately, letting her pull him into a gentle hug.

"He remembers him," Harry managed to say, blinking furiously to try and hold back his tears, but Ginny was stroking his hair and holding him close and it was all too much to bear. Ginny didn't say a word, she just held him and let him bury his face in her shoulder, all of the anger and unhappiness finally boiling over and escaping. He couldn't help the bitter thoughts from welling up inside him; apparently he wasn't important enough to remember, no matter what he'd done. Apparently no matter how much good he did, he still wasn't worth receiving what he wanted in return.

"This fucking sucks," he choked into Ginny's shoulder, and he heard her laugh thickly in return. She gently pushed him back, stroking his hair from his face and then wiping under his eyes with her thumbs as if he were Al.

"He'll remember you," she said, and it sounded like a promise. "We'll do everything we need to get him back."

Harry raised a hand to wipe at his face. "Why?" he asked. "It's still Draco Malfoy at the end of the day."

Ginny sighed. She put her hands on either side of his neck, gently stroking his skin with her thumbs. "Because we're doing it for you," she said quietly, and Harry had to look away. "You deserve to be happy."

Small footsteps along the corridor made him turn; he straightened his glasses and tried to smile weakly as Al padded up, looking worried. He held his hands out and Harry didn't hesitate to bend down to scoop him up. Al wound his arms around his neck, holding on tightly to him with his cheek pressed against Harry's.

"Love you, Dad," he mumbled, and Harry laughed weakly, running his hand down Al's back. He shut his eyes and breathed in and out deeply.

"Is Draco still living with us?" Al whispered, sounding fearful. "And Scorpius?"

Harry swallowed. "Yes," he whispered back. "They're staying." _For now,_ his mind added silently. Would Draco want to stay? What if he found out about their history and couldn't deal with it? What if this new version of Draco didn't love Harry?

Al shifted in his arms and Harry pushed the thought away; he had more important things to be worrying about than his love-life right now. Al and James first, Draco and Scorpius's wellbeing second.

"Harry…"

He turned to look at Ginny, who was biting her lip and looking troubled.

"You're going to say something I'm not going to like, aren't you?" he asked, his stomach clenching.

"No, no," Ginny said quickly. "Well, a bit. Hermione wants to talk to you."

Harry stared at her. "What about?"

Ginny opened her mouth to answer, looking uneasy, but someone beat her to it. Harry turned abruptly at the sound of Hermione's voice further down the corridor towards the kitchen.

"Ellis."

Harry looked from Hermione to Ginny, nonplussed.

"What about him? What did he say?" Harry asked warily. "Did he swear at someone?"

Hermione didn't answer. She walked closer, leaning on the wall opposite Harry and Ginny and glancing towards the door to the sitting room. Her troubled expression matched Ginny's, and the lack of immediate explanation unnerved Harry a little.

"What?"

"You've been telling him everything about what's going on, haven't you?" Hermione said slowly. "About Draco?"

"Well, yeah," Harry said slowly. "I told him about trying to fetch Draco's stuff, and he was trying to work out how they tracked us to Knockturn – hang on, are you saying you think he's got something to do with this?"

Hermione looked evenly at him, though her brow was still knitted in a frown. "Ellis found him so quickly," she said uncertainly. "And he's been awfully cagey about tell us anything-"

"Stop," Harry said, shaking his head. "Please don't. I trust him-"

"Why?" Hermione asked. "He-"

"Just stop it, alright?" Harry cut her off. "I seriously can't – if I find out that anyone else – just no. You're going to have to trust me on this one because I just can't-"

He broke off, unable to bear even articulating the thought properly. He didn't want to suspect Ellis, he _couldn't_ suspect Ellis of any wrong-doing – Ellis had been a constant in his life for the past four years and if it turned out that he _wasn't_ on Harry's side-

"Okay," Ginny said quietly, reaching out to touch the back of Harry's hand. "Okay, if you trust him, we trust him."

The words were comforting but Harry didn't miss the way Ginny glanced towards Hermione, or the way Hermione shook her head slightly, mouth tight. He chose to ignore it; Hermione didn't know Ellis and if this whole mess had taught him anything, it was that he should trust his instincts. To start second guessing himself now would be too much to cope with.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Al asked, drawing Harry's attention away from the women for a moment. Harry didn't reply straight away; he wanted nothing more than to have Al and James at his side for when he went home, but he couldn't just say yes. The boys were supposed to be at Ginny's for another few days, and Harry didn't know how okay she was with this whole new situation.

"Course you can," Ginny answered calmly for him, and Harry felt gratitude for her swell inside his chest. "Go and ask James if he wants to go with you."

Al nodded and Harry let him slither down his side to the floor, dashing off to find James. He turned to Ginny, trying to find words to say how grateful he was.

"It's okay," Ginny said, waving her hand at him. "I think Scorpius needs them to be around to be honest. I can't imagine what he's going through."

Harry heaved out a sigh, looking to the partially open door that Draco and Scorpius were behind. It wasn't just Scorpius who would need the boys, but he suspected Ginny knew anyway so didn't say it out loud. "I should see if he's happy to come home then. To mine," he said, voice flat and lacking any sort of enthusiasm or life.

"He will be-" Ginny began, but Harry shook his head.

"Don't," he said, suddenly feeling too tired for this. "I'm sure I'll regain some of my heroic resilience later, but right now I'd much prefer to just...yeah."

Ginny's mouth hitched in a small sad smile and she nodded, understanding. Harry had lost his partner, been arrested and been splinched in the space of half a day, and as such really couldn't summon up any positive energy at that moment.

"If you need anything, give us a call," Hermione said, reaching out to rub Harry's shoulder before walking away towards the kitchen. Harry didn't say goodbye; he had more pressing matters to attend to and was sure that Hermione and Ron would understand that he wasn't in the mood for being social.

He felt a gentle hand on his elbow and gave in to the pressure Ginny was applying, turning him towards the door to the lounge. Part of him wanted to resist, to turn away and hide from what had happened, but the part of him that still loved Draco was stronger. He took a deep breath and went back into the lounge, leaving Ginny behind in the corridor.

Draco and Scorpius were still exactly where he'd left them; Draco was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the side of the chair he'd been sat in and looking as exhausted as Harry felt. His arms were looped around Scorpius, who looked to be asleep; leaning against Draco's chest with his eyes shut and his fingers in his mouth.

"I remember him being given to me," Draco murmured before Harry could say anything. "I remember my mother calling me to the door, and some man handing him over, all wrapped up in a white blanket. I can't remember where or when that happened though. It might just be my brain making it up to keep me happy."

Harry couldn't help but smile weakly. He walked over and sat on the floor next to Draco, crossing his legs and resisting the urge to put his hand on Draco's ankle. "You're not," he said, and Draco cracked an eye open to look at him. "You were living in France with your mother. You accidentally got a girl pregnant and her family didn't want her to keep Scorpius."

The look of sheer affront of Draco's face made Harry's heart ache. "They did what?" he asked, outraged. "Hang on - I did what?"

Harry rubbed his face wearily. "God, you really don't remember anything do you?"

Draco just shook his head. Harry waited for the snappish comment, the _'of course I don't fucking remember anything you moron_,' but it never came. Draco just shook his head and turned his attention back to Scorpius, carefully stroking his hair.

"What else?" Draco said quietly, and then looked up at Harry. "Has he always been with me?"

The look on Draco's face made Harry want to hold him close and never let him go. It appeared that he didn't really care about his own past, all he wanted to know was about Scorpius. Well, at least that was closer to the Draco that Harry knew.

"Can I tell you about it when we get home?" Harry asked.

Draco looked confused for a moment. "This isn't home?"

Harry resisted the urge to knock his head against something hard. "No, this is my friend's house," Harry said, feeling like an idiot for not explaining properly. "I brought Scorpius here when you-"

"When I was attacked," Draco said softly, the words jarring against Harry's senses. "That man - Ellis - said that someone tried to mug me, and panicked and obliviated me."

Harry wasn't sure if he was grateful for Ellis lying or not; it could cause issues if Draco's memories did come back, but he supposed for now it was probably for the best that Draco didn't know about his past and involvement with the Hightop's gang. Oh well, it was done now and there was no way he could change what Ellis had said now.

"Yeah," Harry finally said. "Yeah, I panicked a bit. Didn't know where you were, and thought Scorpius would be safest here whilst we got you sorted."

Draco simply nodded. "Thank you," he said, and once against Harry wished he wouldn't.

Harry climbed to his feet, and as he did something occurred to him. "Ellis said you remember being sorted at Hogwarts?" he said, and as Draco nodded he continued. "So you know you're…?"

"A wizard?" Draco said, with a small smile. "Yeah. I guess that would be a big thing to make me forget."

Harry forced out a smile of his own. "Well come on then. I'll round up the boys and then we can go."

Draco looked up, eyes wide and the question clear in his expression. "You have kids?"

Harry's heart sank again. "Two," he said shortly, forcing himself to remember that this wasn't Draco's fault. "And they're rather fond of you, so…"

Draco blinked. "So don't panic too much when I see them?"

Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat, getting up and turning away. "Yeah, that'd be great," he said with forced positivity, before leaving the room to go and find the boys.


	31. Chapter 31

_**AN: **Just in case anyone is interested - I'm now trying out facebook as a place for doing fandom recs and readings and reviews and generally talking gibberish. Search me and look for shoes._

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><p><strong>Chapter 31<strong>

Staggering slightly on the uneven brickwork that he suddenly found beneath his feet, Draco stepped out of the fireplace, holding his breath in his chest and clutching Scorpius tightly to him. It had been an awkward journey whilst holding a child – not to mention disorientating considering he couldn't ever remember travelling this way before - but he hadn't been able to bear the thought of letting Scorpius go even for a moment.

Scorpius. His son. The most important thing in his whole world.

And apparently, the only person in the world that he could remember.

One hand on Scorpius's back and the other on the back of his head, Draco slowly straightened up and looked around. He was in someone's kitchen – the kitchen of the house he lived in, if Harry was to be believed.

The kitchen was bloody huge, was his first thought as he shifted Scorpius up into a more comfortable position on his hip. His second was that despite the size, it was oddly homely and comfortable. As he took in his surroundings, his eyes passed over the huge wooden table that stood in the centre of the room, the newspapers and toys that covered the far end. Beyond that he could see a large range cooker and clean work surfaces that stretched across the wall at the back of the room, and up towards the fireplace. By the sink were two mugs waiting to be washed, and he wondered if he had been the one to drink from them. Beyond the initial sense of feeling at home in such a room, Draco could feel a niggling sensation of familiarity; the same feeling that had been hovering restlessly since he'd seen Harry.

He waited, but no memories returned. He clenched his jaw, fighting back the tears that never seemed far enough away. He knew this place, he _knew_ he did, but he just couldn't remember how or why.

The whoosh of flames behind him made him jump and he hastily stepped away from the fireplace and towards the table, just in time to see Harry and the two boys tumble out of the hearth, also staggering slightly on the brickwork. Harry had the boys' hands clutched in his, and only let go of them when they were balanced and in no danger of tripping. Draco felt his heart clench as the two boys shied back into Harry's side, the younger one looking up at him with fear and a little mistrust. Harry had introduced them to him back at that other place they'd been, a quick and terse going over of names that had seemed horribly formal. Draco could only assume Harry had explained to the boys what had happened to him; they were currently skirting around him like he was diseased, which didn't fit at all with Harry's previous assessment that they were rather fond of him. The worst of it all was that he had no idea what to do or say to make them feel better about the situation.

He stood silently as Harry ushered the boys in and walked past Draco over to where there was a kettle on the worktop at the back. His expression was troubled and stormy and his shoulders were so tense that Draco was a little afraid he was going to start yelling. Was Harry the sort of person that yelled when he was angry? Draco didn't know.

Not for the first time, Draco wished he knew how he could make it better. He somehow felt that he trusted this man, even though he couldn't remember a thing about him; the fleeting sense of familiarity was enough for him to cling onto for now. Besides, Scorpius clearly knew and trusted Harry, so that did help a little.

"Go and play," he heard Harry say tiredly. "I'll come up in a bit and we'll watch a film, yeah?"

He looked up as the two young boys left the room, the younger one glancing back at him as they went, his green eyes wide. God, that kid looked as alike to Harry as Scorpius did to him.

Scorpius twisted in his arms to also watch them leave. "Papa, can I go and play?" he whispered quietly, turning back to Draco and pressing his palm to Draco's cheek, the touch warm and gentle.

Draco didn't answer. He didn't even know where the two boys had gone – he didn't even know how big this house was, or how many rooms it had, or which one was his. He didn't know anything – the only thing he did know was Scorpius and now Scorpius wanted to go off somewhere, leaving him alone.

"Papa," Scorpius whispered again, and Draco felt more tears threatening. Not able to justify denying Scorpius what he wanted, he slowly bent down and lowered Scorpius to the floor. He closed his eyes tightly at the feel of Scorpius's small arms slipping from around his neck, leaving his skin feeling cold.

Scorpius left the room quietly and Draco stood there, twisting his fingers together and feeling helpless. He looked over to where the dark haired man was standing by the worktop, moving around from drawers to cupboards with his back to Draco, putting things away where he presumed they belonged. Draco felt a strange sort of ache in his chest, an agonising twist as his mind shifted restlessly, still unable to remember what it wanted, what it needed.

He swallowed thickly and opened his mouth to speak. The words wouldn't come, and he had to clear his throat before trying again.

"Excuse me?"

Harry's shoulders visibly tensed as Draco spoke, a twist of muscle under the plain grey t-shirt he was wearing. He reached out with unsteady hands, bracing his hands on the worktop and bowing his head. His shoulders shook once, and then a bitter laugh escaped him.

"You were never so polite," he said, his voice sounding broken in a way that unnerved Draco. Harry laughed again and shook his head before pushing himself from the worktop and turning to face Draco, although he still wouldn't look at him.

"Sorry. What can I get you?"

Draco opened his mouth, but found he had no idea what he wanted. "I don't know," he said meekly, feeling pathetic and even worse because he didn't know how to sort himself out. "I just feel a bit lost."

Harry glanced at him and then heaved out a sigh, reaching up to rub his face with his hand. "Of course you do," he muttered, apparently more to himself than Draco. "I'm sorry. This is just…"

There was a long silence. Harry reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose under his glasses, and Draco wondered if that was something he did often when he was stressed. He twisted his fingers together again, again wishing he knew what to do. He looked around the kitchen once more, noticing the empty wine rack behind the door. There was probably an explanation for the lack of bottles – probably something as simple as they didn't drink it, or they'd forgotten to get any more. Draco shut his eyes and shook his head slightly, all of a sudden feeling sick and tired of trying to fill in the huge gaps in his mind with nothing more than guesses.

"Can I go and check on Scorpius?" he suddenly asked, and then wished he hadn't. Harry's face shuttered, his jaw clenching tightly and his back going rigid once more. He muttered something under his breath and then nodded.

"Come on," he said, sounding resigned and heading for the door. "I'll show you where he is."

He walked away, through the same door that Scorpius and the other boys had gone. Easily sensing Harry's brewing temper, Draco hesitated for a moment but then, thinking of Scorpius, followed. His eyes immediately found Harry and he felt his stomach twist as he caught sight of his unhappy expression. They must really have been close friends for Harry to be so upset about Draco's memory loss – or maybe it was because of the children; Harry was probably worrying about the impact this would have on the boys.

As he silently followed Harry up the stairs, his eyes slid to the framed photographs that lined the wall. Unfamiliar faces eyed him, some of them whispering behind their hands to the people next to them as Draco passed. In the third one along, he recognised a tall ginger man and a brown haired woman, but only because he'd seen them not ten minutes ago at that other house. _I'm not in any of them,_ he suddenly realised. _Maybe I'm camera shy,_ he thought humourlessly.

Feeling more and more miserable with every step, he looked away from the pictures and back to Harry. His shoulders were still visibly tense, but Draco found himself again distracted by the shift of muscle in Harry's arm and shoulder as he moved, one hand on the bannister. As he tore his eyes away he realised with a jolt that he certainly hadn't forgotten his sexuality.

More and more questions quickly unfolded in his mind with the realisation, almost too many to keep up with in one go; did everyone else know he was gay? Did Harry know? Did he have a boyfriend? Fuck, if he did they probably needed to know what had happened to him – would they be wondering where he was? Hang on – if he was gay, where the hell did Scorpius come from? Harry had said that he'd gotten a girl pregnant when he lived in France, but why would he have slept with a girl if he was gay?

He could hear the children's voices down the corridor as Harry reached the landing and came to a standstill. "James's room is at the end of the corridor, past the stairs," he said listlessly. "Bathroom, lounge, Al and Scorpius's room."

Draco nodded, looking at the last door that Harry had gestured to, rubbing his palms up and down his bare arms. "Can I…?" he asked, and Harry nodded jerkily. Draco edged in, looking around the small room with the two matching beds. It was bright and colourful and full of toys, and Draco immediately felt grateful that Scorpius had somewhere nice to call his own. Well, to share with Al, he mentally amended as he looked around.

"This is…" he began, but broke off mid-sentence, eyes going wide.

He stepped forwards uncertainly, gaze fixed on a mobile that hung from the ceiling near one of the beds. It had seven hanging dragons, each painted in a different bright colour. As Draco stared, he felt something flicker in his mind and as he blinked, he could have sworn that his vision guttered and everything changed; the mobile flickered sliver, the light of the room changed to something slightly duller, the bright blue wall behind turning white for a briefest of moments.

"Draco?" Harry asked, and Draco looked around distractedly to see that Harry had followed him in, his expression intense. "What?"

Distractedly, Draco turned back, but the mobile had returned to being brightly coloured, and the wall behind it was blue and still. "Did this used to be silver?" Draco asked, reaching out to touch the mobile, drawing his fingers back as one of the hanging dragons snorted sleepily at him, flapping its wings and yawning, showing sharp white teeth.

Harry's face fell. "No," he said shortly, and Draco was again unnerved by the bitter disappointment on his face. "Always been coloured."

He abruptly turned and left the room, leaving Draco feeling torn. He glanced back towards the mobile, somehow convinced that it should be silver. Shaking his head, he followed Harry out back onto the landing and found him standing there with his hands shoved in his pockets, looking away from Draco and down at the floor. There was a long moment of awkward silence, which quickly became too much to bear.

"So where do we sleep?" Draco asked, and then realised what he'd said as Harry's mouth fell open in a perfect 'o' of shock. "I mean, do I have a room?" Draco hastily amended, feeling stupid. Fuck, if Harry didn't know he was gay that would sound completely ridiculous – actually, even if he did know it probably sounded equally as stupid. God, he'd probably just accidentally come onto him-

Suddenly, Harry took a quick, fierce step towards him and Draco instinctively stepped back, feeling alarmed. "Do you remember something?" Harry demanded, looking intense and almost angry. His hands were clenched and his brows drawn together. "Are you taking the piss?"

Draco shook his head, feeling a little frightened; this looked possibly violent to him and he really _wasn't_ feeling up to dealing with any more pain. "No!" he insisted, voice coming out much higher pitched than it normally would. "I - I just worded it wrong-"

He broke off as Harry swore violently and turned away, storming away down the landing and disappearing up the second flight of stairs. Draco heard a door slam loudly and then the faint sound of footsteps above his head.

He didn't dare follow. He didn't remember Harry, didn't know how to deal with something like this. Did Harry normally get this angry? Or was this a reaction due to circumstance? Draco stared at the flight of stairs, feeling sick and wishing with all his heart he knew the things he needed to do to put everything right. He looked around helplessly, feeling tears welling up, tears choked with frightening emotions that he could barely recognise.

There was one door that Harry hadn't described to him, and it was this door Draco staggered blindly towards, swallowing repeatedly and trying to push down the emotion in his chest. He figured that Harry had stormed off to his room, so surely this last remaining door had to belong to him.

He pushed the door open and saw a very neat and tidy looking bedroom. He stood there, looking around frantically, trying to push his mind into remembering, surely there was something in here he should remember-

Nothing happened. No memories came back, no sense of belonging or familiarity washed over him. He raised his hand to his mouth but it was no use, he was already crying. He was just so frustrated and damn lonely and _scared, _and he didn't know who he could go to for help – he didn't even know where he was or how fucking old he was, for god's sake.

He took a shaky step towards the bed and sank down onto it, leaning forwards over his knees and clutching his hair in his hands. He wanted Scorpius back with him, he wanted something that he could remember-

Exhausted, he straightened up and then twisted around, crawling onto the bed and lying down. It was comfortable but it still didn't feel like his. Nothing felt like his. Somewhere on the edge of his mind, he wished that he could somehow take the shards of emotion in his chest and piece them together whole, so that everything he was feeling could be condensed, compressed, squeezed into one small, neat ball to be dealt with, anything rather than the overflowing torrent that was currently burning freely, unable to be examined and held safely until everything just _stopped._

He took a deep trembling breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm himself and feeling so, so tired of it all. He couldn't force his memories back; all he could do was sleep and then maybe he'd wake up and everything he'd forgotten would have come back, slotting neatly into place so the world made sense.

Maybe. Just maybe.

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><p>Harry breathed out deeply, reaching up to rub his eyes before letting his hands flop to the bedding on either side of his head. He blinked blurrily up at the ceiling, wishing he could just fall asleep and wake up when this entire escapade was over.<p>

His stomach still felt twisted up somewhere in his chest, displaced and uncomfortable. Now he felt guilty as well as miserable and angry; he knew he shouldn't have sworn at Draco and stormed off, but it was either that or he would have punched the wall and broken either it or his hand. His whole body ached with the need to hold Draco close, to have him there to tell him to grow the fuck up, to stop moping and act like a proper hero.

He shut his eyes again, wondering if he was going to cry. He didn't think he could; he was just so tired. He was emotionally drained and just so bloody fed up of having yet more drama in his life. Just when he'd thought everything was starting to work out-

He cut himself off, unwilling to go down that route again. Sighing, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, reaching for his glasses. He really needed to go and apologise for the swearing and check on the boys. They were probably hungry anyway, so he needed to think about making dinner.

Climbing up off the bed, he felt his stomach tighten another notch. This was his and Draco's bed; the clothes Draco had taken off the night before were still on the floor near his feet for god's sake, but there was no way that Draco would be staying in it tonight. Fuck, he should have just been selfish and told Draco that he was Harry's partner so he could still have him close, memories or no memories.

Although, knowing Draco, he could well have bolted the moment Harry told him about them being together. He didn't even know if Draco remembered his sexuality. Christ, imagine if he came out of this thinking he was straight; Harry didn't know how to even start contemplating it so he abandoned the thought where it was, refusing to follow it any further.

He took a deep breath then stepped away from the bed, opening the door and heading for the stairs. Despite what had happened, he knew he had to somehow carry on with life as if it was normal, for the boys sake if no-one else's.

_Bloody hell_, the part of his brain that was still able to appreciate a joke thought. Something had gone very wrong somewhere for him being in a functioning relationship with Draco Malfoy to be considered _normal_.

Smiling tiredly at the thought, Harry walked into the lounge to see James lying on the sofa watching the television, and Al and Scorpius playing with a box of Lego bricks on the carpet. The moment Harry entered the room, Al dropped his piece of Lego and made a beeline for him, reaching up in a familiar indication with a pleading expression on his face.

Harry obliged, bending down to heave Al up into his arms. "Hungry?" he asked quietly, as Al wound his arms around his neck.

Al nodded. "Crisps?"

Harry smiled. "I'll make us something, if everyone's hungry," he said, before turning to look at James. "Where's Draco?"

"In his room," James said, not making any effort to get up or even look away from the television. "His old room."

Harry nodded, feeling guilt roll through his stomach. He'd expected Draco to be glued to Scorpius's side after remembering him, but for whatever reason Draco had chosen to be alone in his old room. Did he remember it as his old room, or had he just found somewhere quiet and comfortable to be left alone in?

He pushed the questions away, lowering Al to the floor despite his protests. "I'm going to go start on dinner," he said. "I'll give you a shout when it's ready."

Al returned to the Lego on the carpet, and Scorpius nodded, continuing with his construction. He looked calm and settled, though he wasn't saying much. Harry wasn't going to press it; Scorpius had had a hell of a day already and probably didn't need anything more than comfort, food and having Draco and Harry close.

Harry left the room and hesitated, eyes on the door to the spare room. Draco was just behind that door, alone and probably scared, confused about this world he didn't fully understand. Should he go in to him? Or should he just leave him alone for a while?

Turning away and heading to the stairs, Harry chose to leave him alone. More guilt rose in his stomach as he acknowledged that the choice had been entirely selfish. It wasn't thoughts of Draco's wellbeing that kept him away; it was being unable to bear Draco looking at him with that polite, neutral look that had graced his features since he'd been obliviated. Urgh, Harry was never going back to work; he never wanted to obliviate anyone ever again.

He'd barely made it into the kitchen and set about the mechanical process of making dinner, rifling through the pantry and sorting out pots and pans, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see James padding into the kitchen, a battered and torn comic in his hand and his expression troubled.

"What's up?" Harry asked, concerned and wondering what could have caused James to willingly separate himself from the television. He put down the towel he'd had in his hands and held his them out for James to take. James didn't oblige but he did step closer, turning his comic over in his hands and tugging at the corners.

"He doesn't remember you."

It wasn't a question. Harry shook his head slowly, and James's mouth pulled into an unhappy twist. "And you didn't tell him you were his boyfriend, did you?"

Harry stared at him, feeling guiltier than ever. "Well, no," he said.

"I heard Uncle Ron saying you should have bloody well told him," James burst out, and Harry was too stunned to even reprimand him for the swearing. "But you didn't, and so now it's all changed again-"

"James-"

"But he's like Mum is with Neville," James continued, words tormented. "But if we don't tell him he won't remember and he'll just think-"

Harry swallowed, fighting down the swell of emotion in his chest. "Hey, hey," he said, walking over and pulling out the chair closest to James, sitting down and reaching for him, hands on his waist. James didn't pull away, but Harry saw his chin tremble ever so slightly. "Just listen," he said. "Draco's been through a lot, and it's not fair to tell him something that big-"

"But-"

"James," Harry said gently. "You have to trust me. He'll remember me sooner or later, but for now we've just got to leave him be."

James shook his head, eyes bright with tears. "But then you still don't get anything."

Harry managed a small smile. "I've got you," he said simply, giving James a gentle shake. "That'll do just fine."

James stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around Harry's neck hugging him tightly. Harry held him close, feeling worse than ever. James was right, in his own young, uncomplicated view. It just wasn't that easy – or was it? He didn't know what to do; he hadn't even considered that not telling Draco about them would have such an impact on the boys.

"Do you want to stay with me, or do you want to go and watch television?" Harry murmured, running a hand down James's back. James shifted and then pulled back, comic still clutched tightly in his fist.

"Television," James replied quietly.

Harry nodded and let James go, watching as he turned on his heel and walked back out of the room. Harry heaved out a sigh, running his palm over his chin and noticing absent-mindedly that he could probably do with a shave. Well, he supposed he'd have plenty of time to attend to himself later if he didn't have Draco by his side to keep him company.

Sighing again, he forced himself out of his chair and towards the oven, really not wanting to do anything other than sit down for a while. His day had been the most emotionally draining he'd had in _ages_. He was furious at whoever had done this to Draco, cross at himself for letting it happen, still worried about Scorpius, genuinely fearful that Draco's memories wouldn't come back, guilty that he'd let his temper get the better of him, and grateful that he'd even managed to get Draco back so quickly. On top of all that, he found he was still angry at _Ellis_ for his flippant attitude earlier that day, and he couldn't quite shake what Hermione had said about him. Did she honestly think that he was in with the hightops gang? Harry didn't for one minute think that Ellis wasn't to be trusted – or was that just because he couldn't stand the thought of being betrayed?

No. His instincts had proven to be right again and again over the past few weeks, and he had to trust in them. He'd second guessed himself and tried to convince himself otherwise about the people following Draco – but then again, it had been _Ellis's_ words that had tried to convince him. Bollocks.

He tried to push the thoughts away, feeling close to exhausted. God, what he wouldn't give to be able to go back in time and not go to the bloody diner – hang on, the question of how they'd found Draco at the diner was still unanswered; they had checked him for tracking charms but they'd still somehow managed to find him.

Harry could only hope that Ellis was still working on it, although after their altercation earlier he wasn't sure that he'd give any more of his spare time to worrying about Harry and Draco. The only possibility was that as Draco had potentially been kidnapped by Hightops, it was Ellis's job to be working out how they managed it. If, that was, he wasn't so pissed off about Harry pushing him about that he'd refuse to have anything to do with it. Harry couldn't imagine that being the case; Ellis had only gotten stroppy with him earlier when Harry himself had lashed out, and he _had_ stuck up for Harry whilst he was being questioned.

The thought galvanised Harry into action, propelling him towards the food he'd gotten out before James had distracted him earlier._ Leave Auror work to the Aurors,_ he thought tiredly. _Leave it to me to carry on here._

Harry quietly padded up the stairs, bowl of food in hand and fork balanced precariously across the rim. It was almost dark; the long summer evening had been stretched to its limit, leaving only the faintest of light to creep through the windows. He was now beyond tired, and working as if pushed and pulled by magic; he'd managed to make dinner, feed the boys and get them all into bed with the last reserves of his energy, and now all he had to do was take Draco some food and then go to bed himself.

He'd not seen Draco all evening. Scorpius had gone to fetch him down for dinner but had reported back that _'Papa is sleeping,'_ so Harry had merely put his bowl aside under a preservation charm, ready for when he awoke. He'd then spent the rest of the evening feeling jittery and tightly-wound, constantly waiting for Draco to appear.

He hadn't, and Harry had finally accepted with a heavy heart that he really was going to be alone for the night. He found he still couldn't work out which was worse; to be alone without Draco by his side, or to have a Draco who didn't know him by his side. At least he'd not had to resist the temptation of touching him for the whole evening; that would probably have required more willpower than he currently possessed.

Not thinking to knock, he pushed open the door to Draco's room and stopped as he saw it was quiet and empty. He didn't panic; Draco probably didn't even remember how to use the floo, so there was really only one other place he could be.

Bowl still in hand, Harry did an about turn and instead headed for Scorpius and Al's room. It had been otherwise empty when he'd put the boys to bed, but right now he'd bet his last galleon that that was where Draco had gone.

He saw the moment he stepped through the doorway that he was right; Draco was knelt on the floor by Scorpius's bed, elbow on the mattress and head rested on his fist. He looked as exhausted as Harry felt, but his eyes were bright and wide and fixed on Scorpius's sleeping face, only glancing away for a moment as Harry walked closer.

"Thought you'd be hungry," Harry murmured, crouching down beside Draco.

"I don't know," Draco said softly, eyes still on Scorpius. "I hadn't thought about it. I just woke up and had a mad urge to look at him."

Harry smiled weakly. "Not a mad urge at all," he said, setting the bowl down by Draco's knees. "Perfectly rational."

Draco didn't reply. He just continued to watch Scorpius, and Harry took the opportunity to watch Draco. It made his chest ache with the need to have Draco close again – because it was beyond wanting that had taken over him these days, he felt he needed Draco, no question about it. All he could do was hope with everything he had left that Draco's memories would return, and everything could go back to the way it had been.

"Am I a good father?"

The question took Harry by surprise. He looked up at Draco who was still watching Scorpius, a small worried frown on his face.

Harry blew out a breath. "You are the best father I know," he said quietly, and Draco almost smiled. "You are obnoxious, you're fussy, some days you're downright rude, but you always try to do right by Scorpius."

Draco did turn to look at him then, still frowning worriedly. "I sound horrible."

Harry shook his head. "No," he said, glancing quickly at Draco's face. "You've been through a lot, and you don't trust people very easily, and some days I think I drive you round the bend. Well," he amended, looking down at his knees and wondering how on earth he could describe everything that Draco was with only a few words. "We drive each other around the bend. But you're – despite all that, you're pretty brilliant."

Heart thudding inside his chest, he looked up and saw Draco was already looking right at him, expression open and vulnerable in a way it had only ever been whilst in Harry's bed. It looked so familiar that the need to tell Draco everything burned hot on his tongue; he wanted so badly just to take the risk and spill everything, with the hope Draco would remember, or welcome the news that he was Harry's lover-

"Harry..." Draco said, so softly it was barely more than a breath. His eyes were still open and wide and Harry felt his stomach tighten, his heart skipping up into the base of his throat. Fuck, he had to tell him, had to let him know how he felt -

"You should eat that if you've not had anything else," he finally said, clambering unsteadily to his feet, needing to put some distance between him and Draco before he said anything else incriminating, before he messed it all up by coming on too fast too soon.

Unable to look back, he fled the room and went up to his own bedroom, only stopping when the door was shut and he could lean back against it. He shut his eyes, breathing heavily and wondering how doing the apparent right thing could leave him feeling like such a coward.


	32. Chapter 32

_**AN:** Just FYI, I am currently editing the last chapter of this story. Don't know if I should celebrate or cry! I will post this chapter today and will aim to post the remaining chapters on Sunday nights- offer not legally binding. _

_PS – still looking for more Potter-loving facebook friends, come and find me! If you're having trouble, drop me a message._

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><p><strong>Chapter 32<strong>

_And there was a hand, fingers threading through his, holding him down against something soft and warm, he could feel hair brushing against his temple and the slide of skin against skin, a warm weight on top of his legs, his hips, warm tendrils of desire curling through his body. He could see a body beneath his, fingers clenched in cream bedding, dark hair stuck to a sweaty brow and warm skin beneath his palm as his fingers smoothed over someone's hip. He could feel the heat, the warmth of the body close to his…_

Draco felt his eyelids fluttering and then he was drifting back into wakefulness, sunlight on his face and warm blankets surrounding him. He blinked slowly and took a moment to try and recollect where he was.

His bedroom. In the house he shared with Harry. Right. His name was Draco Malfoy, and he lived with a bloke called Harry, he had a son called Scorpius and that was pretty much all he could remember about his life.

He sat up, rubbing his face and squinting in the sunlight. He looked around for a clock to try and work out what time it was, but he couldn't see one. He did catch sight of a shower through a partially open door though, and resolved to get in it the moment he got out of bed.

Feeling glum, Draco leaned back against the pillows and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't really feel much better for having slept; he still felt out of place and out of sorts, the sensation of almost knowing still crawling over his skin like an irritating rash. It was as frustrating as it had been the day before, making him feel like he could burst into tears at any moment because of how tightly wound he was. Something had to give, though it was impossible to guess whether it would be him or the _obliviate_ that would snap first.

_What if your memories never come back?_ a small voice in the back of his mind whispered. Draco felt his heart clench in fear at the notion – fuck, what if they didn't? Would he feel like this forever? Would there always be the feeling of missing something? Would his mind settle and calm down, or would he always feel this agitated and restless? It made him feel sick just contemplating it.

Breathing in and out deeply, he turned his mind back to the dream he'd been having just before he woke up. _Dream_ was the word his mind had applied to the experience, but now he thought about it, it hadn't felt like what a dream should. It had felt more real, too vivid and clear, not disjointed or changing in the way dreams sometimes would. It was as if –

Draco's eyes went wide and his hands stilled on top of his head.

Hang on. Had that been a memory?

He felt his cheeks warm. Bloody hell, if that had been a memory then it definitely answered the question as to whether he'd ever had sex or not. But if it was a memory, was it a recent one, or an old one? And who had been the other person? His mind flicked back to the dark hair he'd seen and he abruptly froze all over again.

No. Couldn't be.

A dull thud above his head made him hastily look up, and he held his breath as he heard someone – presumably Harry – walking across the floor above. The footsteps moved one way, paused, and then moved elsewhere, possibly towards the door. Draco tried to follow the sound, but noise just outside his bedroom door distracted him; he could faintly hear voices and more, lighter footsteps on the landing outside and guessed that the children were also awake.

He wanted to go out and check on Scorpius, god, he felt like he _needed_ to get up and go to him - but he also felt distracted enough by the dream he'd had to want some time to himself. He needed to work this out – for Scorpius's sake as well as his own.

He made his mind up, despite feeling guilty about it. He'd have a shower, which he supposed was a halfway decent excuse to snatch some time to himself to think over what had just happened.

As he climbed out of bed and padded towards the bathroom, he found that he didn't have to concentrate hard to recall the images and sensations from his dream; it was as if his mind had been flipping through an album of memories, allowing him to have snatches of sensation from each. He could only wish he'd been able to focus on one particular moment, to work out who was there and when it had happened.

He couldn't help but think back to Harry. Frowning, he tried to push the thought away. He had no proof at all that Harry had been in what he suspected to be flashes of memory; all he had to go on was a glimpse of dark hair, so why was he immediately jumping to conclusions?

_Because Harry is the only person you know and sort of trust, _his mind supplied dully. Hell, with how he was currently feeling he would probably grab hold of the first person who showed him any kindness and never let them go, anything to try and make him feel less alone than he did. He knew deep down though that he was just clutching at straws; Harry would have told him if they were together when he'd first seen him, so they couldn't be any more than friends. He swallowed thickly, wondering why he felt a flicker of disappointment at that thought.

God, it would be so much easier if he and Harry had turned out to be together, he thought ruefully. They lived in the same house, their kids were friends and they were obviously close considering how upset Harry had been to find Draco obliviated. _Stop it, _Draco scolded himself. Harry was straight – he probably had a girlfriend hiding somewhere in the wings, ready to kill Draco should he ever make a move. Not that he would ever do it anyway – Draco didn't know much but he knew making a move on your straight house-mate would probably go down like a broken Comet 260.

Startled, Draco blinked for a moment, pausing in place. He knew what a Comet 260 was – it was a broomstick. He couldn't ever remember seeing or even hearing about one, but he just knew what it was. Slightly bewildered, he reached up to rub at his temples, as if he could ease the explanations from behind the block in his mind. He still felt he knew a lot – his vocabulary was largely intact and he understood emotions and what was considered acceptable behaviour and what wasn't, but he had no context in which to place everything he knew and had learned.

When the forehead rubbing didn't yield any results, Draco gave up and headed into the bathroom, again idly wondering how he would have known the names for all the features inside the room when he couldn't remember being in a bathroom before. Shutting the door behind him, he reached out to turn the shower on, wincing as he did. He was still sore from what he'd been through the day before; the left side of his body felt tender and as he stripped off his clothes, he could see the faint remainder of bruises that had been mostly healed. God, whoever had attacked him must really have wanted to do him some damage as well as stealing his things.

He stepped into the shower, sighing out in relief at the feel of warm water on his skin. It was comforting in a way, as well as the sound of the water against the tiles. Reaching up to push his wet hair from his face, he paused as he caught sight of the tattoo on his left forearm. He'd noticed it yesterday, but he'd been so wrapped up with everything else that had happened that he'd barely given it a second glance. Until now.

He lowered his arm, staring at the dirty brown mark, the faded outline of a skull and a snake. He shivered slightly as he looked; it was an ugly image and he racked his brains trying to think of why he'd ever choose to have such a thing put on him, or why he'd never removed it. Frowning, he reached up with his right hand to touch the mark with the tips of his fingers -

_- an ear-splitting scream rent the air, and he was on his knees on the polished wooden floor, the room was dark and the only light came from the fire, the lights flickering and dancing across the walls, across the tall tapestries that hung from the high ceilings. There were people standing around him, all in black and he could feel pain, nothing but searing pain, starting in his arm and tearing through his body as he screamed, his wrist grasped tightly in someone's fingers -_

Gasping, Draco staggered back and nearly slipped on the shower floor, flinging out his hands to steady himself. His heart was pounding and he felt sick, the memory of the pain still clear enough to almost feel all over again. Oh god, that was _definitely_ a memory – not a complete one but a memory nonetheless.

Disoriented and shaking, he reached to turn the shower off and climbed out. What should he do? Should he tell someone? Harry was his first thought – maybe Harry would know what the memory meant, and would have more explanations for him. He felt desperate, needing to know why and how that memory had resurfaced-

Grabbing a towel, he hurriedly dried himself off before snatching up his clothes; they were the same ones he'd been wearing the previous day but he didn't even care; he needed to tell someone what had happened, he needed to get hold of the Healer that had seen him yesterday to work out how he'd managed to snatch a memory back-

_The mobile! _He suddenly thought as he dragged his t-shirt over his head. That had been a memory too! But if Harry had said that it had never been silver, that could only mean that he'd seen another similar mobile somewhere in his past, and his shattered mind had managed to make the connection.

Draco felt like he could jump up and down and shout; a bubble of something was welling up in his chest because that was two things he remembered that he didn't yesterday, and that _had_ to be a good sign. If there was two, there could easily be more, all he had to do was keep looking to jog the pieces back into the right places-

He wrenched open the door and abruptly stopped as he found someone he wasn't expecting standing right outside as if they were waiting for him.

"James?" he said, his elation at what had just happened giving way to confusion. He glanced up and down the corridor but saw it was empty save for the boy standing in front of him.

"You're wet," James said, scrunching up his nose as Draco's hair dripped water down onto his shirt and the carpet around him.

"Yeah, I was in the shower," Draco began distractedly. James didn't say anything more and the silence stretched out, until Draco realised James was waiting for him to break it. "What's up?" Draco asked, somewhat wary about what was happening. He didn't remember a thing about James, so didn't know if this was normal behaviour or if there was something amiss.

James looked at him for a moment and then down at the floor. He shoved his hands in his pockets and bit his lip, looking like he'd just been caught stealing. His messy brown hair tumbled across his forehead, reminding Draco forcibly of how Harry's did the same whenever he looked down.

"James?"

"That's not your room," James burst out suddenly, and Draco blanched.

"Shit," he said, and then resisted the urge to swear for swearing in front of James. "Sorry. I just assumed."

"It just used to be," James said over him, blurting out the words and then looking down at his feet. "I'm not allowed to tell you."

Alarm bells immediately went off in Draco's mind. "Tell me what?" he asked cautiously, as James crossed his arms across his chest and shook his head. "Where's Scorpius?"

"Having breakfast with Al and Dad," James said, looking around again. "I'm not allowed to tell you," he muttered again, looking down at his toes and then up at Draco. "But if you tell me if I have to tell you, then I'll be allowed. Dad says I have to do what you say as well as what he says."

Draco felt his mouth fall slightly open. "Is it that important?" he asked weakly. "I don't want to get you in trouble with your dad-"

"You don't care about getting in trouble with dad," James said earnestly, suddenly looking much more determined – and a lot more like his father. "Come with me?"

It was a question, and James waited until Draco nodded before turning around and taking up off the second flight of stairs at the end of the landing. Draco followed him to the bottom but then hesitated; he assumed that it was Harry's room at the top of the stairs and was reluctant to follow somewhere that was probably private. There it was again, he mused, that innate ability to know what he should and shouldn't be doing-

"Come on," James said, and Draco frowned at the obvious urgency in his tone. Drawing a breath, he reached for the bannister and followed, wondering what Harry would do if he caught him. Probably more yelling, Draco thought distractedly as he followed James right up the stairs and through the door at the top. Strangely, it wasn't enough to make Draco pause.

"Well?" James asked, face open and oh-so earnest. "Do you remember being up here?"

Draco looked around, frowning slightly. The room was nice and light and airy; it had a large window that was open slightly, sloped ceilings and a large bed against the back wall, a thick carpet and a set of dressers on either side of the bed. It felt oddly familiar in a way the room downstairs hadn't, but despite that, no memories came flooding back. Draco had held his breath, braced for another flashback like the one that had assaulted him in the shower, but nothing happened.

"No," he said, and James's face fell. Draco eyed him warily. "Why? Should I remember this place more than anywhere else?"

James nodded, glancing back towards the stairs again. "This is your bedroom," he said, scuffing his toes along the carpet before looking up at Draco, eyes pleading with him to understand.

Draco stared at him, confused. "But I thought this was your dad's bedroom."

James nodded. "It is."

The knut dropped. Draco felt his jaw go slack with shock, and his eyes went wide. "But," he began, but no more words came to mind. He stared at James, mouth still hanging open uselessly.

James shifted from foot to foot. "Please don't be cross with him," he pleaded. "He didn't want to upset you but he wasn't being fair. Uncle Ron said he should have told you, and I don't want you to move back out again."

Draco had to sit down. He took a large step back and sank down onto the edge of the bed, fingers pressed against his mouth. This was_ their_ room? How the hell could it be when Harry said they were just friends? He and Harry were-? They were actually-? But _how?_

"James," Draco managed, his voice shaking. "Go and fetch your dad."

James eyed him uncertainly. "Are you mad at him? He said it was too big a thing to tell you."

Draco just shook his head. "Go and get him," he repeated, and James fled, clattering down the stairs without shutting the door behind him. Draco drew in a ragged breath, looking around the room and trying to piece together what he'd been told; as he looked he spotted that there was a mug on one bedside cabinet and a glass of water of the other, and there were rumpled pillows on either side of the bed. He stood up again, breathing quickening as he saw clothes on the floor next to _both_ sides of the bed – all telling his protesting brain that this was definitely a room that two people shared.

He couldn't even think – why the fuck had Harry not told him? Why the bloody hell, if they were together, had he been left to flounder by himself, not knowing anything about his life? That was surely a pretty vital piece of the fucking puzzle – what right had this man to keep it from him? Draco felt anger for the first time since he'd been obliviated; he didn't know much about himself but he sure as hell knew he wouldn't be with someone who would lie so easily to his face-

He whipped around as he heard footsteps on the stairs, clenching his fists as Harry came into view. He looked puzzled and also quite wary, and Draco couldn't really blame him for the apprehension.

"What are you doing up here?" Harry asked quietly, stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

Draco had to resist a wild urge to hit him for being so calm. "Because," he said tightly. "According to James, this is _our_ room."

Harry simply stared at him, expression unreadable. He stared for so long that Draco was tempted to say something to break the silence, and then Harry swore softly and looked away.

"Fuck."

"You mean _it's true?!_" Draco asked, astounded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know, alright?" Harry said, looking agitated as he ran his hands through his hair. "Look, it's not a big deal-"

"Not a big deal?" Draco found himself yelling as he interrupted. "Not a_ big fucking deal?_ You had no right to keep this from me-"

"I had every right," Harry shouted back, gesturing at nothing with his hand. "You didn't remember me! You still don't remember me! I couldn't just tell you that you were mine, and expect you to, to _belong_ to me without you knowing why! For all I know you don't even like me this time around!"

"Well I fucking well don't right now!" Draco shouted. "I think you're a fucking scummy coward-"

One moment he was yelling himself hoarse across a gap of five feet, the next moment Harry had strode forwards, grabbed him and kissed him full on the mouth, fingers digging into Draco's arms. His body was warm and solid and he tasted of something Draco recognised-

Draco shoved him away, gasping for breath. Harry stumbled back, hand on his ribs where Draco had shoved him. "What are you doing?" Draco managed, voice shaking as much as he was.

Harry was breathing heavily, his expression torn. Draco held his breath, but thankfully Harry stayed where he was, and made no moves towards Draco again. "I just-" Harry began, and then shook his head. "God, you swearing at me – you sound like you again."

"You had no right," Draco said again, tone tight and voice trembling. "No right to keep something that big from me."

"Well, it makes no difference," Harry said bitterly, gesturing to Draco. "You hate me either way."

Draco felt something clench in his chest. He didn't _hate_ Harry, he just didn't know what he should be feeling. "You have no idea what this is like-" he began, but Harry beat him to it.

"Of course I have no idea what this is like for you," he said, bitter and frustrated and upset all at once. "But I've got to sit here with you right in front of me, knowing I've probably lost you because you don't remember anything about me. I remember everything about us, and still, it's been taken away from me too."

Draco didn't reply. In his brief flash of anger he hadn't even considered that it would be hard for Harry – possibly because he'd only just bloody well found out about him and Harry. "I'm sorry," he finally said, and Harry let out a bitter laugh. He walked past Draco and sank onto the bed, sitting exactly as Draco had done not five minutes earlier.

"Why did you bring me back? If it was so hard for you?" Draco asked, the question more confused than cruel. Why had Harry brought him here if he couldn't stand to look at Draco? Well, it certainly explained his behaviour over the past day, Draco thought distractedly.

Harry looked up at him, eyes bright. "Because you never wanted to be anywhere but with me," he said shakily, and then lowered his head, hand coming up to his forehead.

Draco didn't know what to say. Something in his mind pushed dangerously close to breaking at the sight of Harry like this, a stirring sensation of memory that pushed and pushed but was unable to reveal itself. God it was unbearable, the sensation of _knowing_ he knew, but being completely unable to make the connections. He felt his throat tighten and all his anger vanished as if someone had banished it. This wasn't Harry's fault, not really, no more than it was his.

"I trusted you," he said in a small voice, and Harry didn't move. "I can't remember a thing about you, but…"

He broke off, the lump in his throat too painful to speak around. He wanted – fuck, he didn't know. He wanted his memories back. He wanted to know the reasons for all these feelings inside of him, the horrid jumble of emotions that were floating around, unattached to any experiences.

"Harry," he said quietly, but Harry was shaking his head and standing up, pushing his fingers under his glasses as he tried to surreptitiously wipe away tears.

"You stay here tonight," he said, voice thick. "It's your room as well as mine. I'll sleep on the sofa. You might remember something in here."

"Harry-"

"You should come and get some breakfast," Harry continued as if he'd not spoken. "Scorpius is downstairs."

Without another word, he got up and left the room, leaving Draco alone yet again. Inexplicably, it was on the tip of Draco's tongue to call him a coward for walking away, but he didn't really believe it himself. He didn't know what to think; here was another piece of information about him and his life but it still didn't make things any easier. How long had he and Harry been together? How serious was their relationship? God, this was so _hard._

He turned to look at the bed again, hands on the back of his head. As he stared at it, he realised that despite the anger at being lied to and the way in which he'd been left to find out, he was actually…_okay_ with the idea of him and Harry being together. The thought settled in his mind as easily as he'd found himself naming bathroom furniture, and he took heart from it. Surely if it weren't true he would feel uneasy, unsettled about it?

No, the only thing he didn't feel alright with was the fact Harry hadn't been honest with him from the start. How was he supposed to start piecing things back together if Harry was feeding him false information? He spared a rueful thought for James, hoping that Harry wouldn't give him a hard time for telling Draco the truth; at present it seemed he was the only person in the house showing any sort of integrity.

Shit, and now he'd not had a chance to ask Harry about the tattoo. He glanced at it and realised with a sinking heart that even a kiss from Harry hadn't been enough to shock his memories back into place. If he and Harry were really together surely that should have elicited a memory, just as touching his tattoo had done earlier.

Draco moved back to the bed and sat down heavily, fingertips pressed to his mouth. As he did a thought struck him and he let out a strangled laugh, feeling bright tears welling up again.

The man in the dream had been Harry after all.

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><p>"Dad, can I have more tea?"<p>

Harry jerked back to reality from where he'd been staring out the window, lost in thought. "No," he said to Al, who pulled a face across at Scorpius. "You've had one already. Juice or water."

Al shook his head, bottom lip sticking out. Harry chose to ignore him; he really didn't want to waste any energy getting drawn into a battle of wills with Al over a bloody cup of tea. Instead, he glanced over to James who was avidly staring at a comic he'd got spread out on the table next to him, spoon full of cereal forgotten half way to his mouth. Harry smiled weakly; he had no idea where James had got his obsession with reading from, but he certainly wasn't going to discourage it.

He couldn't be angry at James for telling Draco what he had; in fact, he knew deep down that it had been the right thing to do. It didn't make him feel better; if anything he felt like a complete bastard for allowing his seven year old son to do the right thing, instead of doing it himself. Draco's earlier words were still fresh in his mind and he knew they were true – he had had no right to keep anything from Draco, especially not when every piece of information could be vital in helping Draco piece together his memories.

Noise from the hallway drew his attention, and he didn't need Scorpius's exclamation of '_Papa!_' to know who it was. He stayed where he was by the worktop as Scorpius hastily pushed himself away from the table, running over to the door just in time to grab Draco as he came in.

Draco didn't hesitate; he immediately bent down to heave Scorpius up into his arms, holding him close. Harry couldn't help but notice that his eyes were red and felt a swift blow of guilt to his gut. He'd caused those tears.

He turned away towards the kettle as he heard Scorpius say something in French and Draco reply, voice shaky but smile still evident in his tone. Harry didn't know how to feel; Draco coming downstairs obviously meant that he couldn't be too traumatised about what had just transpired, but things still felt horribly wrong between them. He had no idea what to say; should he apologise? Should he carry on pretending the shouting match had never happened? Should he be treating Draco like he was his partner, or should he act as if there was never anything between them?

"There's a letter for you," he finally said, unable to bear keeping quiet any longer. "Came by owl this morning."

Draco looked confused for a moment, but then nodded, looking around and spotting the envelope in question on the table. "Who is it from?" he asked cautiously.

Harry shrugged. "Ministry, I think," he said, and Draco's shoulders slumped a bit, the disappointment evident in his expression. Harry chose not to tell him that there wouldn't be anyone else who would be sending him post.

"Oh," he said in a small voice, and sighed. "Can I read it?"

Harry felt a twist of frustration in his chest, but fought it down. "Course you can," he said levelly, turning to pour Draco out a mug of tea. "It's yours."

Draco nodded, and floundered for a moment before putting Scorpius down and pulling a chair out. He sat down and allowed Scorpius to scramble straight back onto his knee, clamouring in French and pulling at Draco's wrists. "Scorpius – hang on," Draco said, shifting him and wrapping an arm around his middle. Appeased, Scorpius sat back and allowed Draco to reach for the letter.

Harry watched silently as Draco nimbly opened the letter with one hand, shaking it out and scanning the page. His brow drew up into a frown as he read, and when he reached the bottom he tossed the letter aside, rubbing at his eyebrow with his fingers.

"Okay?" Harry asked cautiously.

"The Healer," Draco said, sounding unhappy. "I have to go for Mental Malady therapy, apparently."

It was Harry's turn to frown. "I'm sensing you're not happy about that?" he ventured, but Draco just shrugged, staring at the piece of parchment on the table. He seemed listless and unsettled, and Harry wished he knew how to make it better. "They wouldn't be offering you any therapy if they thought your memories were gone forever, you know."

Draco seemed to stir at that, looking up at Harry with wide uncertain eyes. "Yeah?"

Harry nodded. "I'm an Obliviator, so I know quite a lot about it," he said with a shrug, and then blanched. "I mean, it's my job – I didn't – I had nothing to do-"

"I know," Draco said quietly, and Harry abruptly stopped talking. "I know you didn't."

Harry reached up to rub his temple. "Okay," he said, valiantly trying to regroup. "When do you have to go?"

Draco picked up the letter again. "Today, apparently." He said. "At…Saint Mungo's? That's the hospital, right?"

Harry nodded. "I can go with you, if you like," he said. Draco looked up sharply and eyed Harry carefully, apparently thinking about the offer. After a long moment he inclined his head slightly, eyes on Harry's. "Would you?" he asked, looking uncertain all over again.

"Of course," Harry said, wishing fiercely that Draco didn't have to ask. "Look, I'm here to help you. I should have-"

"Don't talk about earlier," Draco suddenly said. "Please don't. Not now."

Harry would have argued, but he noticed Draco's eyes flick down to Scorpius as he asked, and he relented. It wasn't just about the two of them. Draco probably had his reasons for not wanting the conversation to happen now, with all the children present. Sighing, Harry turned away to finish making Draco's drink.

"There was something I wanted to ask you about though, if it's okay," Draco said slowly, and Harry tensed.

"What?" he asked, unsure what Draco would be asking about. Would it be something about them? Something about Scorpius? Bollocks, what if it was something about his family-?

"This tattoo on my arm," Draco said, and Harry froze in place, swearing softly under his breath.

"You want to know now?" he asked carefully.

"I touched it earlier," Draco said hesitantly. "And I think I remember having it done. I mean, when I touched it, something came back. I don't know."

Harry felt his stomach leap up into his throat at the words and span around. "What happened?" he asked urgently, but Draco just bit his lip, eyes flicking down to Scorpius again.

"Boys, go and play," Harry said immediately, and Al looked up at him with a frown.

"Why?"

"Just go. I need to talk to Draco," Harry said firmly, feeling his heart skipping quickly inside his chest. "Ten minutes."

James rolled up his comic and then tried to pick up his bowl of cereal, before rethinking and tucking the comic under his arm so he could pick up the bowl with both hands "Can I take this?" he asked, and Harry nodded, not quite understanding why James would even want the remainder of his very soggy owl crispies, but choosing not to say anything about it.

"But Da-ad," Al whined. "Draco's only just got back and we haven't even seen him."

"He's not going anywhere," Harry said, trying his very best to be patient. "Ten minutes. Go and play."

Al pulled another face but complied. Draco, possibly having sensed how important the pending conversation was, had quietly whispered something to Scorpius who was now nodding, slipping off of Draco's knee and leaving the room after Al. Harry waited until the boys were out of sight before pulling his wand, shutting the door and setting a charm on it so the boys wouldn't be able to hear through even if they decided to try and eavesdrop.

"So. What happened?" Harry said again, turning to Draco. He was looking down at the Dark Mark, fingers brushing the skin of his wrist just above it. Harry stepped over and pulled out the chair next to Draco, slowly sitting down, his eyes on Draco's forearm. His mind flicked back to the moment he'd noticed Draco still had the mark, when he'd been dragging him drunkenly out of the fountain he'd been swimming in.

"I touched it," Draco said quietly, and didn't resist or pull away when Harry reached out to carefully take hold of his wrist, fingers pressing against the warmth of his skin. It wasn't that Harry needed to hold his wrist to be able to see the tattoo; really it was just an excuse to touch him. He'd half expected Draco to yank his hand away, considering how he'd reacted to the kiss earlier. That had been the most depressing moment so far, to have Draco shove him away like that., but he knew it was because of the way he'd grabbed him. He'd probably shove someone away for kissing him like that, even if he _wasn't_ dealing with being obliviated.

"And I remembered something," Draco continued, and Harry tried to shove away his guilt so he could focus on what Draco was actually saying. "I had this picture, this image of being in a room – it had high ceilings and looked big, like it was in some sort of, I don't know – a stately home or something. I was…" he trailed off, looking uncertain. "I don't know," he said. "I think someone was putting it on me. I just know it hurt. Really, really hurt."

Harry blew out a breath, a strange prickle going through him at Draco's description. "You wouldn't be wrong," he muttered. "They're notoriously fucking painful."

"They?" Draco asked, sounding confused.

Harry sighed, wondering how he could possibly explain the implications behind the mark on Draco's arm. Draco didn't even remember who Voldemort was – and the shortest version of events was still bound to cause confusion. "There was a war," he said slowly, trying to work out what information he could get away with leaving out. "Eight years ago. A Dark Wizard named Voldemort made a bid for power, and caused…well, it was horrendous. He hated muggles, he hated anything non-magical, he was twisted beyond anything anyone could imagine. He managed to take over the Ministry. He'd kill people just for-" Harry had to stop and take a breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "Long story short, you were pretty much bullied into following him. This was his mark."

The look on Draco's face tore at Harry's heart. He looked horrified, staring down at the tattoo like he couldn't believe it was there. "What happened to him? Is he still-"

Harry shook his head quickly. "No. He was killed."

Draco was still staring at the mark on his arm. "God. I lived through a _war?_" he asked, sounding almost overwhelmed. "And I-" his face fell, looking stricken. "I didn't- I didn't fight against him? I was on the wrong side, wasn't I?"

Harry couldn't really argue with that, but he couldn't find it in himself to nod. "You saved my life though," he said lightly. "So by the end of it all, I wasn't entirely convinced that you were on any side whatsoever."

Draco nodded, looking distracted. "So you…you did fight against this Voldemort person?"

Harry's lips twitched, despite himself. "You could say that," he said somewhat evasively. "But like I said, it was years ago. I've been married, divorced, had two kids and met you since then."

Draco looked down at the tattoo on his arm again, but made no movement to pull his hand out of Harry's gentle grip. "Was meeting me anything to do with your divorce?" he asked lightly.

Harry shook his head. "No," he said truthfully. "Me getting divorced is old news. You're relatively new."

Mouth hitching in a weak smile, Draco nodded his acceptance. "It's strange," he said softly. "I know that me and you are together, like I can feel that it's true – I just don't have any idea of how or why or when."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised.

Draco nodded again. "It's like how I know how to speak French, or that I'm not supposed to swear in front of Scorpius," he said, and then laughed weakly. "And that I know what words are swear words, I suppose. I know this stuff," he trailed off, a pained expression flittering across his face as he reached up with his free hand to rub at his temple. "The rest of it is in here somewhere, I just can't get at it…"

He trailed off, looking miserable once more. Harry didn't know what to say. The feeling of déjà vu was frustrating enough when it was just one thing you couldn't pinpoint or remember – he honestly couldn't imagine how unbearable it would be to feel like that about everything. He couldn't help but feel hopeful though; what Draco was describing was exactly how a fragmented obliviate should feel – as in Draco knew he'd been obliviated, and could feel the memories somewhere in his mind. And the fact he'd snatched a memory about his Dark Mark – whilst it wasn't the best memory to get back, it was a memory nonetheless. It was a good sign, though Harry was cautious with his optimism. A fragmented obliviate meant that the strength wasn't consistent through his mind; he may easily get back some of his memories, and the rest could still be locked away forever.

"I should…"

Draco's quiet voice brought Harry back to the moment. He looked up and his pulse skipped as he saw Draco was looking at him in a strange way, eyes intense of full of some strange expression, like he was trying to work Harry out. Harry swallowed thickly and drew in a soft breath as Draco reached up, his fingers brushing Harry's fringe aside and gently touching his scar.

"Did Voldemort have something to do with this?" he asked carefully.

Harry couldn't get over the way the name slipped so effortlessly from Draco's lips; he never in a million years would imagine Draco being able to say it, yet there it was. He nodded fractionally, not wanting Draco's fingers to move away. "How did you know?"

Draco frowned at that, eyes trained on the scar. "I…" he began, and then seemed to remember himself, blushing and drawing his hand back. "I think I just knew," he said, now looking anywhere but at Harry. "I don't know why – I can't remember how I know…"

"Well, that's something," Harry said, trying to sound light and not like he was fighting an almost all-consuming urge to just kiss Draco until he damn well remembered him. "Better than not knowing anything at all."

Draco's mouth hitched again in another almost smile, and then it faded and his eyes flicked uncertainly over Harry's face. His lips parted slightly, enough so that Harry thought he was going to say something, and then Draco moved with startling speed, leaning in and clumsily kissing Harry's cheek.

It happened so fast that Harry could barely react; his mouth opened in surprise but Draco was already pulling away and standing up, his cheeks a tell-tale pink that they weren't before. He didn't say a word, just pushed his chair back and then left the kitchen, leaving Harry alone.

Swallowing thickly, Harry fought the urge to reach up and touch his face where Draco had kissed him, clenching his hand into a fist and helplessly thinking that it still hadn't felt right. It still hadn't felt like Draco.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Harry shut his eyes, leaning back against the chair he was sitting in, absent-mindedly rolling his wand up and down his thigh with his fingertips. The sun was warm on his face, shining in through the large windows at the end of the corridor. Whether the windows were really showing sunshine or just charmed that way, he didn't know and at this point he didn't really care. The sweet smell of the flutterby bush in the corner was making him feel pleasantly drowsy and even a little relaxed, but he knew that it was down to the magic of the plant itself rather than because he was feeling better about his current situation. He wondered if it would help to put one in every room of his house until this whole ordeal righted itself. Actually, that might not be a half bad idea – it might calm Al down as well. Though he wasn't sure it was considered acceptable parenting to get a plant to do half the work-

"Can I get you anything, Mister Potter?"

The voice that interrupted his thoughts was the same voice that had done exactly the same thing five times in the last half hour. The culprit was an overly perky medi-nurse who had been so happy to see Harry in the hospital that she just couldn't leave him alone. Harry would have made a point about being left alone but she seemed fairly harmless; all she'd done was been overly polite and at least she hadn't asked for an autograph. Feeling knackered and not wanting to make eye-contact with anyone he didn't know, Harry didn't even bother opening his eyes to reply. "No thanks," he said simply, and heard her footsteps move away, shoes squeaking slightly on the polished floor.

He heaved out a sigh, continuing with the repetitive rolling of his wand up and down the denim of his jeans. This was exactly why he hated coming to Saint Mungo's; some of the staff weren't exactly professional at the best of times, never mind if you were famous and tended to draw unwanted attention anyway. On top of that was the point that he only ever stepped foot in the place when he or someone he knew was seriously sick or injured; at those times he really didn't want to be dealing with the occupational hazards of being the bloody Chosen One.

Opening his eyes and blinking at the flutterby bush without really seeing it, he couldn't help but wonder what would be said about him turning up with Draco Malfoy in tow. The welcome-witch had stared at them like they were trolls when they'd entered the reception, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. Harry was sure the reaction wasn't solely down to him; her eyes had flicked between him and Draco with such speed that he was worried she was going to give herself an aneurism.

Well, it did answer his question over whether the general public would know or remember Draco or not. Draco's name had been thrown about quite a lot during the media frenzy that had escalated at the end of the war, but that had been a long time ago – shite, Harry suddenly remembered the headlines that Andi had referred to when she'd been talking about Draco and his connections to Harry, the ones from _The Prophet_ that suggested they were magically bonded. Bollocks. With that in mind, Draco really couldn't have made much more of a re-appearance if he'd arrived riding on a Hungarian Horntail.

Harry let out a breath, glancing again at the plain wooden door that Draco had been led through half an hour ago. Harry hadn't wanted to leave his side, but the Healer had been firm about speaking to Draco alone, so he wouldn't be hesitant about speaking about his memories or some shit. Harry snorted tiredly, knowing full well that the real Draco would have refused point blank to speak to anyone about anything. _Except maybe me,_ he thought listlessly, returning to twisting his wand over and over in his fingers. He was growing impatient; he wanted to find out if there was anything that the Healer could do. Maybe he'd even managed to get some of Draco's memories back, or even-

Noise at the end of the corridor disturbed his thoughts and drew his attention; he looked around just in time to see a small gaggle of people dart away back down the stairwell, their excited whispers still loud enough to be heard from where he was sitting. Underneath his tiredness he felt a surge of irritation; he resisted the urge to shout after them and tell them to fuck off, knowing full well that anything he did would probably make the situation worse. Before they'd left the house that morning, he had debated disguising Draco in some way shape or form, maybe changing his hair colour at the very least, but it had only been a half-hearted plan at best. If he'd suggested a disguise he would have had to explain why he felt it was necessary and he was having enough trouble communicating with Draco as it was. He felt a strange twist of emotion in his chest; with every moment that passed he felt that he was falling further and further out of love with this fake Draco that had taken the place of the one he thought of as his-

He tried to stop himself thinking. He felt exhausted, like he could go back to bed and sleep for a week. Convincing Draco that yes, it would be safe to leave the boys with Luna whilst they went to the Healers had taken up most of his energy, and now he just wanted to sleep. He couldn't even feel disappointed in himself that his fighting attitude appeared to have ebbed away; he'd done enough fighting in his time. This time, he was honestly just _tired._

A soft click alerted him to the door of the Healer's consultation room opening; he grabbed his wand and sat up straight, and sure enough the door opened and Draco was ushered out by the Healer. The Healer looked to Harry and gave him a brief nod and what appeared to be an encouraging smile.

"Alright?" Harry said, standing up and unable to push away the hope that somehow the Healer would have managed to get all of Draco's memories back in one fell swoop. Draco merely shrugged, looking down at the floor and shivering slightly. He looked paler than usual and not altogether well, like he was coming down with flu or something.

The Healer gave him a sympathetic look. "These sessions are pretty draining," he said. "Whether we recall any memories or not. Take him home and give him a good meal and some chocolate. Lots of rest, not too many questions."

Heart sinking as he realised that Draco hadn't remembered anything more, Harry nodded. Draco stepped up to him, arms crossed tightly over his chest and teeth still chattering slightly, as if he were cold. He wouldn't meet Harry eyes, and Harry ached to know what had been said behind the closed door. Anything about him? About them?

"Come on," Harry said, sounding resigned. Draco didn't move, so Harry reached for him, putting a gentle hand on his elbow and steering him along the corridor. Draco allowed himself to be guided, and Harry couldn't work out if he'd rather Draco let Harry take care of him, or whether he wanted Draco to pull away, to snap impatiently at him, to insist he could manage himself.

As they walked away from the Healer, he heard a noise from further down the corridor; this time there were two medi-witches standing close together and staring avidly at a clipboard that was floating in front of them. The effect was somewhat ruined by the way one of them kept glancing up at Harry and Draco, eyes wide and clearly angling for details to add to the gossip.

"Fuck's sake," Harry muttered, and belatedly let go of Draco.

"I know you're famous," Draco said quietly, and Harry glanced over to see Draco was watching the witches with mistrust etched into his features. "Which would explain the staring."

Harry grimaced. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"The Healer says you don't like being famous," Draco continued. "Says you're famous for not wanting to be famous."

Harry rolled his eyes, but had to grudgingly admit that the Healers description of him had been pretty much accurate. "Just about. What else did he tell you?"

"Nothing," Draco said, but Harry wasn't sure he believed him. He chose not to argue; Draco didn't look like he was in the mood for being badgered and they were drawing level with the two witches who were still doing an appalling job of pretending that they weren't watching them. Trying not to scowl and failing, Harry edged Draco past the women and towards the exit.

"…see, it's true! It must be!"

"Shush! He can hear you!"

"But look, he's got his hand on his arm-"

Harry gritted his teeth and counted to five. Draco glanced at him, brows drawing together in a confused frown. "Why are they-?" he began, but broke off, still looking uncomfortable.

"Me and you…aren't exactly public knowledge," Harry said, trying to sound casual. "My sexuality…let's just say I don't reckon they'll be calling it unconfirmed for much longer."

Draco's mouth fell open and Harry fought an urge to laugh. "Don't worry about it," he said, but Draco shook his head and reached up to rub at his temple with a finger, a gesture Harry was rapidly becoming accustomed to.

"Looks like I've fallen back into the most complicated life I could have," he said, trying to sound light but his voice still a little shaky. "No wonder I don't remember anything. It's probably a wonder I remembered what was what when I _wasn't_ obliviated."

Harry couldn't say much to that; his sexuality and the interest in his life by the general public were pretty low down on his list of '_things that make other things very complicated._' Draco's involvement in the war (the non-abridged version), his involvement with Hightops and his still-too-recent career were definitely things that would take more than ten minutes of explaining. Harry only hoped that enough memories would come back in one go so he wouldn't have to attempt to fill in all of the blanks-

As they turned the last corner of the stairwell which would lead them out through the reception area and back into London, they were greeted with a sudden and jarring swell of sound and the blinding flashes of several cameras. Draco swore under his breath, instinctively reaching up to shield his eyes with his hand.

"And this is why I said not to bring Scoripus," Harry muttered, but Draco was too distracted to hear him. The other people in the waiting room were looking shocked and annoyed, and Harry couldn't really blame them. Thankfully, the annoyance seemed to be focussed on the reporters rather than on Harry and Draco, though a middle-aged woman did throw him a slightly reproachful look before turning back to her dandelion-eared daughter.

"This is a hospital, right?" Draco said nervously, and Harry noticed his next step brought him much closer, so that they were almost touching; Harry's shoulder between him and the gaggle of reporters that a security wizard was valiantly trying to shove back through the door.

"_Mister Malfoy!"_

"_Mister Potter, a word!"_

"_How long have you been back in England?"_

"_How long have you two been friends? What did it take to get past the enmity you showed during the war?"_

"_Is it true that you live together?"_

"Harry," Draco said urgently, and Harry felt familiar fingers gripping at his elbow. One glance at Draco showed he didn't seem to have noticed that he'd done it, and Harry felt a fierce wave of protectiveness roll through him in response. "What do we do?"

"Well," Harry said conversationally as he slipped his hand into his pocket to find his wand. "I always imagined that if this ever happened you'd tell them to fuck off. Loudly and angrily."

Draco looked bewildered. "I would?"

Harry sighed. "Normally. Though I don't know what obliviated-you would do."

Draco sent him a distracted glance, wincing as another camera flash half-blinded them. "You say it like we're two different people."

Harry didn't answer, because that was exactly how it felt. He felt he didn't really know this person next to him anymore, and was starting to fear that if he didn't get the old one back soon, things would never be right again. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the thoughts away and marched over towards the exit, wanting to get out and away as soon as possible.

Possibly sensing that he wasn't in the mood for arsing about, most of the reporters took a step back out of his range as he walked past; years of experience had taught them it wasn't worth getting in Harry's way. Technically he'd only had _one_ person arrested for harassment and obstruction, and that was someone who had gotten in the way whilst he was working, but he wasn't about to start discussing technicalities if it kept the reporters out of his face.

"Mister Potter!"

"Not today," Harry said in the calmest voice he could muster. "You're in the way. Move."

"Just a quick comment?" One young man persisted hopefully, his notebook darting forwards eagerly and nearly knocking Harry's glasses off. "Sorry, sorry-"

"No," Harry said firmly. "Come on. You're disturbing everyone-"

The reporter barely heard him; he turned his attention to Draco, whose eyes widened in alarm as the notebook zipped towards his face. "Draco Malfoy!" The reporter all but yelled, and Harry tightened his grip on Draco's arm. Draco looked around wildly, and then his eyes met Harry's for a moment and Harry saw how discomfited he was-

"Just a word about where you've been?" the reporter asked eagerly. "How did you come to be with-"

"Just fuck off and leave me alone!"

The reporter shrank back as if Draco had hit him rather than shouted, and Harry's heart leapt at the look of anger on Draco's face. Several of the reporters ducked out at that point, but the ones that remained looked even more excited and one even raised his camera as if he were debating whether to take a photo-

Harry seized his opportunity and pushed past the reporters, dragging Draco with him. He ducked through the door and they suddenly found themselves back in London, completely unobserved and unnoticed by the Muggles that walked past. Glancing behind him, Harry noticed that no-one had followed them straight away, but he wasn't about to take his chances. Still holding onto Draco, he walked as quickly away from the building as he could manage.

"So," Draco's voice said as they turned a corner, edging past a couple that were hovering outside Costa, dithering as they debated whether they should go in or not. "You're really famous."

"Not out here, thankfully," Harry muttered, and then glanced at Draco, unable to stop the grin that broke out over his face. "Well done you for telling them to fuck off."

He expected Draco to grin back, to snort derisively and say they'd deserved worse. He half expected Draco to laugh, a mischievous glint in his eye as he made a joke about what he'd done.

He didn't, however, anticipate Draco biting his lip and looking worried. "I shouldn't have," he began, shaking his head. "That was rude of me."

"No, it wasn't," Harry said, unable to keep the annoyance from his voice. "They were being idiots. And you don't stand for idiots."

Draco didn't say anything. He just shoved his hands in his pockets and carried on walking, looking worried and distracted. Harry felt an urge to argue with him, to try and push him into arguing back just to have him sounding like Draco again, but he knew it was no good. If Draco didn't remember any of the things that had made him who he was, then he wouldn't act like the person that had been crafted by experience and memory-

Suddenly, Draco stopped. Half a step-ahead, Harry paused and turned to ask him what was wrong, and saw that Draco was staring across the street, his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyes wide. Harry frowned; there was nothing over the road except a busy HMV and a Greggs with a queue trailing out the door, and a rank of taxi's that were squashed in number to bumper. Unless…

"Draco?" he began cautiously.

Draco blinked at the use of his name, looking to Harry and then back across the road. "That way," he suddenly said, pointing across the road. "I – I feel like I need to go that way."

He looked confused and uncertain, but Harry's heart was abruptly doing double time inside his chest. "Do you remember something?" he asked urgently, reaching out for Draco, his fingers on his arm once again.

"No," Draco said distractedly, looking around. "I don't know. I just-"

He took hold of Harry's hand and started walking, eyes fixed on something further down the street. Harry didn't argue with the hand-holding; again, Draco seemed to have done it without thinking about it, and he didn't have the heart to deny himself the little bit of contact. Draco's fingers were tight on his and his expression was desperate, and he was pulling Harry forwards and making to go across the road-

"Shit!"

There was the blaring of a car horn and Harry yanked Draco back just in time. The driver of the taxi that Draco had almost stepped out in front of threw his hands up in the air, mouthing something vehement at them. Harry held a hand up in apology and the taxi pulled away again, the driver still muttering and sending them disgruntled looks.

Harry turned to Draco, blowing out the breath that had caught in his chest. "Jesus, Draco," he said, and Draco exhaled shakily as well, one hand still clutching at Harry's sleeve. "You have to wait."

Draco nodded, looking shaken. He eyed another passing taxi with apprehension, but his eyes quickly flicked up and across the street, looking at Harry-didn't-know-what. His expression was almost desperate, and as such Harry kept hold of him, not quite trusting Draco to be careful and _not_ get himself run over.

Almost feeling like he were walking with an impatient Al rather than a twenty-seven year old, Harry kept Draco back and out of the range of the kerb as he scanned the road, waiting for a lull in the traffic. The moment they could dart across they did, and Draco took charge once more, his pace quickening as he led Harry along, turning left when they reached the end of the pavement.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, watching Draco's flushed face as they walked quickly along, darting around pedestrians and bystanders that weren't moving fast enough.

"No idea," Draco replied shakily, pulling on Harry's hand. "I just know where I'm going."

"Right," Harry replied, dodging out of the way of a traffic warden with a hastily muttered apology. "I'm hoping that it's a good sign."

"You and me both," Draco replied fervently. He reached the end of the road and paused, looking right and left and right again. Harry had barely looked right and Draco was off again, pulling him along with an urgency that was obvious to anyone who glanced their way. Harry soon lost his bearings, busy watching Draco and trying to keep him from being run over – his earlier warning to be careful had clearly fallen on deaf ears but he want going to hold it against Draco when he clearly had other things on his mind. They must have half-walked, half-jogged for a good fifteen minutes, moving away from the busier streets and making their way along-

"_Fuck-_"

Again, he yanked Draco back; this time out of the path of a Parcel-Force van which came dangerously close to the pavement. Frustrated, he blew out a breath and turned to glare at Draco, one hand on his chest to keep him back. "Pack it in - you are seriously going to get yourself killed and I did not-"

He abruptly stopped when he realised that Draco wasn't even listening. He was staring across the road, white in the face and trembling.

"I know that," he said, almost inaudibly, and Harry's anger vanished. "I know that," Draco repeated, his voice still barely above a whisper. "I remember walking through that door with Scorpius. It was raining, and I wasn't wearing a coat because I'd put it over his head and he was complaining about it…"

Harry turned to look in the same direction and he gasped as he saw a familiar building; a shop with blackened boards over its windows, with cracked bricks and a battered door that looked like it was barely hanging onto its hinges. He felt Draco move as if to cross the road towards it and pushed him back instinctively.

"No," he said, shaking his head and scarcely able to believe what he was seeing. Knockturn bloody Alley – of all the places for Draco to make a beeline for, it had to be that sodding place.

Draco frowned at him, looking mildly affronted. "What?" he said, sounding confused. He glanced back towards the building. "Why? I remember it-"

"I know you do," Harry said, keeping his hand splayed out over Draco's chest. "You can't – it's not safe."

Instead of shoving Harry aside or insisting that they go, Draco's eyebrows flew up and he froze in place, looking scared. "Not safe?" he echoed. "Then why – why would I take Scorpius there?"

"You used to live there," Harry said bluntly. "Before you lived with me. It's an entrance to Knockturn Alley – it's not a nice place to be."

Draco's confusion grew. "I lived – why would I - what?"

"You didn't have a choice," Harry said, glancing around and noticing that a couple of girls that had just walked past were glancing back their way, obviously noticing that something was amiss. "And I really don't want to stand here and talk about it. Can we go home and I promise I'll explain?"

"But," Draco tried, confusion giving way to genuine fear. "It can't be that bad, surely?"

It was on the tip of Harry's tongue to snap at him and tell him exactly just how bad things had been, to tell him why he'd had to live there and the things he'd done during his stay on the Alley, but then he looked at Draco's frightened face and couldn't bring himself to do it. He swore under his breath and then pulled Draco up close to him, ducking into a doorway that was partially concealed behind a white van, before apparating away with _crack_.

* * *

><p>"Papa!"<p>

Harry and Draco were barely through the door before Scorpius was on them; skidding out of the kitchen on his mismatched socks and sliding straight into Draco. Draco bent down to pick him up, smiling weakly as Scorpius threw small arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"I waited forever!" Scorpius said, sounding cross. "You said you would not be long and you were _long._"

"Yeah, Dad," Al's equally cross voice came from the door. "You said you'd be back for lunch."

"We weren't that long," Harry protested, glancing at the clock on the wall as he kicked his shoes off and dropped his keys into the bowl on the side, checking that the door was properly locked and warded. His heart was thudding inside his chest and he could still feel the adrenaline from what had just happened thrumming through his veins; Christ, as if Draco had managed to lead them to Knockturn Alley without even knowing that it existed. He racked his brains trying to think of what that meant for Draco's prognosis – it wouldn't have been as significant if Draco hadn't then actually remembered the place. What had he said – that he remembered going through the boarded up house with Scorpius?

"You were!" Al insisted, just as James ambled in from the kitchen, frowning at Al.

"He wasn't. You're such a baby," James said, and then swung around the bannister and ran up the stairs before Al or Harry could even formulate a reply.

"Am not!" Al shouted furiously at James's retreating back, but James was already up the stairs and nearly out of sight. Harry turned around just in time to see James pause on the second to last step, crouching down to pull a face at Al.

Harry placed his hand on his forehead, blowing out an exasperated breath. He was about to reprimand the pair of them for bickering, but Al chose that moment to abandoning arguing with James in favour of sidling up to Draco, looking unsure. He reached up and twisted his fingers into one of the belt loops on the black jeans that Draco was wearing, tugging gently.

"Do you remember me yet?" he asked. "Did the Healer sort it out?"

Draco looked down at him, startled. He shifted Scorpius onto his hip so he could see Al, looking hesitant. "Not yet," he said, and Al's face fell. "But the Healer says I'll remember you very soon."

Al perked up at that, and Harry had to wonder if it were true or not. Even if it wasn't, he should probably be grateful to Draco for trying to make Al feel better about the whole thing. A flicker of affection towards Draco made itself known in Harry's chest, and he had to wonder if there could still be something between them even if Draco's memories _didn't_ come back.

"Hello you two," Luna's serene voice drifted through from the kitchen, and then she appeared in the doorway, sleeves rolled up and wand tucked behind her ear. "Goodness, you look bothered, Draco. Did something happen? Did someone try and hex you?"

Draco looked startled. "Why would they?" he asked, bewildered.

"Because you weren't very nice before," Luna said with a smile. "Well, before the war. After that you started to get nicer, and now you live with Harry you're quite nice to everyone, though you pretend you're not."

Draco simply stared at her, mouth hanging open.

"Don't worry," Al whispered up at him, tugging on Draco's jeans again. "You're nice."

Harry didn't know whether to laugh, cry or simply sit on the floor and give up. He was knackered, and honestly he just wanted some time to himself. In the space of half a day he'd already been in a full-blown argument with Draco, been to Saint Mungo's, been hounded by reporters, dragged around London to the entrance of Knockturn Alley, dealt with his kids and dealt with Luna. He felt like his brain had been hit by a _stupefy_.

"Thanks, Luna," he said tiredly. "I owe you one."

"You can repay me by flooing Ginny and letting her know you're okay," Luna said seriously. "She's worried about you. That's Harry's ex-wife, by the way," she added, turning to look at Draco. "Did you know?"

Draco shook his head. "No," he said weakly. "Didn't know she was called Ginny."

"Oh don't look like that," Luna chastised as she came forwards to give Harry a brief hugging, kissing his cheek. "I suspect that Harry likes you far more than he ever did Ginny, though Hermione asked me not to tell her that. I don't see why though, she likes Neville a lot more than she did Harry."

"Thanks, Luna," Harry said with a tired smile. "What a way to kick me when I'm down."

Luna ignored him. "Goodbye, boys," she called happily, waving at the children before turning to pat Harry on the arm. "Sleep with the windows open," she said. "I know I normally advise against it, but maybe some fresh air will help with his memories."

Harry simply nodded, thankful and also slightly surprised that Luna's suggestion had been limited to fresh air and not wrackspurts or hobnoblins or whatever creature was currently doing the rounds. Luna smiled as if she knew exactly what Harry was thinking, and then turned on her heel and left without another word, humming contentedly as she went.

Harry waited until he heard the floo in the kitchen _woosh _with Luna's departure, and then he turned to Draco. He was watching Harry patiently, his cheek resting atop Scorpius's head and looking so damn permissive that Harry suddenly didn't want anything to do with him.

"You said you'd explain?" Draco said quietly, lifting his head as Scorpius shifted in his arms, hitching him up more securely.

Harry nodded, running his fingers through his hair. What he wanted was to go back to bed, but he knew he still had a duty to care for Draco. His eyes flickered to Al, who was still leaning against Draco's side and picking at a loose piece of cotton on the waistband of his trousers, and felt something worrying crawl through him. Shit, he had to fix this – no matter how he felt about Draco, he had to cling onto the parts of him that remembered how to love Draco because it would be ridiculously unfair on the boys if he didn't.

"Al, go tell James to pick a film. We'll come up and watch with you in a bit, yeah?"

Al narrowed his eyes. "Can I tell James that it's my turn to pick the film?"

Harry thought for a moment, trying to find some way of getting the boys out of the way so he could talk to Draco without causing any arguments. "Actually," he finally said, "it's probably Scorpius's turn to pick a film."

At that, Al nodded and Scorpius perked up, lifting his head from Draco's shoulder and looking thrilled. "Really? I can choose a picture?"

Harry smiled tiredly. "Yes, course."

Scorpius wriggled his legs in an indication to be put down and Draco complied; letting him slide to the floor. Draco watched him and Al dart up the stairs, his expression torn. Without Scorpius in his arms, he looked uncomfortable and awkward, his long arms crossed tightly over his chest. Well, at least that was slightly closer to the Draco that Harry knew.

Harry headed into the kitchen, and Draco followed him without a word. Harry eyed the door to the cellar somewhat wistfully, wishing that he could go and get himself a beer. His common sense over-rode the craving; even if Draco didn't remember being a borderline alcoholic, messing about with booze didn't ever seem to do him any good. The last thing Harry wanted was a drunken and over-emotional Draco who didn't remember his own history of being drunk and over emotional.

"Do you think it's good, that I'm remembering things?" Draco's voice asked quietly, and to Harry it sounded as if Draco was genuinely asking his opinion rather than trying to make small talk.

Harry perched on the edge of the table and turned to look at Draco. "Of course it is," he said sincerely. "I just don't want to get too over-excited just yet."

Draco nodded, stepping up to the table and running his thumbnail along the edge. "The Healer says that it's not a well done obliviate," he said carefully. "So some things might come back, and some things might never."

He sounded conversational, but Harry could tell how scared he was. "It's called fragmented oblivation, or inconsistent obliviation," he said. "Exactly how it sounds. The tosser that did it must have been either thick as a short plank or seriously distracted."

Draco almost smiled, still tracing his thumb nail along the varnished edge of the table. The ghost of a smile died quickly, replaced with something much more serious, and Harry felt his insides clench as he guessed what was coming next. "That place I remembered earlier."

Harry sighed, reaching up to rub his eyes under his glasses with his forefingers. "Knockturn Alley," he said, and took a deep breath as he tried to work out where to begin. "It's part of wizarding London, and has a pretty bad reputation. It used to be full of shops and dealers that had links with Dark Magic, where you could go to get your hands on anything questionable. It's not so bad now, but still not the nicest place in the world."

"How did I end up there?" Draco asked quietly.

"You went to France after the war," Harry told him, glancing at him and taking in the yearning, hungry look on Draco's face. "With your Mother. That's where you had Scorpius. When your Mother died you came back…one of your friends was meant to meet you, but he never showed up. Some bloke took you under his wing, so to speak," Harry paused, trying not to sound as bitter as he felt. "You worked for him, he gave you the flat."

Draco nodded slowly, brows drawn together in a frown. "You said…You said it wasn't safe?"

Harry swallowed; the way Draco said it made it sound like he'd believe anything Harry said. "The bloke that took you in is wanted by the Ministry," he said, hoping the explanation would be enough. "He got involved in some dodgy stuff, stealing and possessing stolen goods," he said. "And he wouldn't hesitate to take you down, if he thought you would tell anything."

Draco suddenly froze, his frown vanishing and a look of comprehension dawning over his face. "I wasn't mugged," he said. "Was I?"

Harry sighed. "Nope," he admitted. "We think it was that bloke, or someone connected with him that did it, to stop you blabbing."

Draco laughed at that, a short broken sound. He shifted on his feet, turning so his back was to the table and leaning back, shoulder to shoulder with Harry. Close enough to touch. "Sounds like I was in deep shit," he said, trying to sound light. "Fuck. If that's what my life was, maybe it's not so bad I don't remember."

The words were like a punch to Harry's gut; he knew Draco hadn't meant that he didn't want to remember him, but still, it hurt nonetheless. "It wasn't so bad," he said lightly. "You seemed happy to be here with me."

There was a long pause. Harry looked down at his feet, feeling tired and hopeless all over again, wishing fruitlessly that he'd never suggested leaving the house on that morning. Wishing he'd stayed in bed with Draco all day so he still had him by his side, as he should be.

"I am happy to be here with you," Draco said quietly, and Harry drew in a breath, looking up. Draco was looking at him with painful, vulnerable sincerity in his eyes, as if he didn't know _why_ he was happy with Harry, like he knew it but couldn't explain it. Harry met his eyes and realised with a jolt that it didn't fucking matter if Draco didn't remember; he was still Draco, and he would be the person Harry knew and loved, it would just take time-

And Draco hadn't moved away.

He was_ still_ looking at Harry

Harry drew in a shaky breath, and he knew he should move away because this was unfair; he was tired and Draco had had his mind pulled six ways from Sunday by the Healer, and Draco _still_ didn't remember him. But Harry felt his eyes flick down to Draco's mouth and back to his eyes, and Draco didn't move away, not even when Harry carefully reached up to put his hand on Draco's neck, thumb stroking his skin.

His eyes fluttered closed, and Harry watched his adams-apple move in his throat as he swallowed. "You…doing this gives me the worst sense of deja-vu in the world," Draco whispered helplessly. "I know we've done this before. I just can't…"

Harry cut him off by kissing him, a gentle press of lips against lips, chest aching at the feeling of having Draco close again, exactly where he should be. The ache turned into a piercing _want_ as Draco exhaled shakily and then kissed Harry back, his hand coming up to clutch at Harry's shoulder, fingers clenching in the material of his T-shirt.

The moment was broken far too quickly. Draco pulled away slightly, his forehead pressed to Harry's but his face angled away, down towards the floor. "Christ," he said, sounding broken. "It feels like I'm about to snap. _I know this._"

Harry didn't reply. He just sat back, reaching for Draco's hand and taking it in his when Draco didn't pull away. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I want – well, my instinct is to try and make you feel better, but I guess it's just making it worse."

Draco squeezed his hand. "I will remember you," he said fiercely, and in that single moment Harry believed every word.

"I bloody well hope so," he said, and Draco's mouth hitched in a small smile for a moment, before his expression turned pensive.

"So," he said. "Am I sounding more like my old-self yet?"

Harry shrugged minutely, his thumb dragging across Draco's knuckles. "You're getting there," he said, remembering Draco's outburst at the photographers. "One swear word at a time."

Draco did smile at that, and then before Harry could say anything more, he leant in a kissed Harry's cheek almost shyly, before pushing away from the table and leaving the room, his footsteps fading as he went up the stairs.

Sitting alone at the kitchen table, even despite his tiredness, Harry felt a spark of resilience in his chest. He breathed in and out deeply, feeling marginally more in control over his emotions. _It's only been a couple of days, and he's already remembering things, _he reasoned as he stood up, stretching his arms above his head as he yawned. He knew full well that it could be worse; hell, thing could always be worse. It was just that Harry couldn't help but think that by this point in his life…things really should be _better._

_Sod it, _he thought bravely, finally finding his inner-Gryffindor. If things weren't going to get better of their own accord, then it just meant it was down to him to try his hardest to make it happen. He took a deep breath, and as he let it out again, he reached up to touch his face where Draco had kissed him, and he smiled properly for the first time in what felt like forever. _We'll get there. _


	34. Chapter 34

"Does he remember you yet?"

Harry smiled weakly as he knelt down beside Al's bed, reaching down to pull Al's blanket up over his shoulder. The room was dark and quiet; the only light that came in spilled through the open doorway from the landing. He couldn't hear a sound except for the rustling of the duvet that Al was shifting underneath, wriggling down and getting comfortable. Harry couldn't help think wistfully of his own bed, how soft and comfortable and welcoming it would be…

"Dad?"

Harry blinked, realising that he'd not answered Al's question. "Not yet," he finally whispered back, and sighed at the disgruntled look on Al's face. "It might take time, I told you that already."

"Like, until tomorrow?" Al whispered hopefully, and Harry smiled sadly.

"Maybe a bit longer. It could be tomorrow though, I honestly don't know how long it's going to take. Might be days, might be longer."

Luckily for Harry, Al appeared too tired to follow through on discussing the time-scale of Draco's recovery. He didn't even pout or whine; he just yawned widely, nodding sleepily and reaching for his toy Kneazle. Across the room, Scorpius was already fast asleep, spread out on his back like a starfish, panda tucked into his side and just visible over the edge of the blanket. Draco had put him to bed himself about an hour ago, when Scorpius had fallen asleep on his knee in the living room, and Harry had wisely not commented about how easily Draco had found it to leave Scorpius alone in the bedroom without him or Al being there. He'd expected Draco to keep Scorpius with him for the night, but supposed that Draco was missing the memories that made him feel like he couldn't bear to be apart from Scorpius. It was strange, but Harry supposed it was better for Scorpius not to have to suddenly deal with Draco being overbearing and clingy all over again.

"Go to sleep," Harry whispered to Al, reaching out to gently push his fringe back from his face, smoothing it back with his palm. God, he was glad the boys were here; no matter how insane they drove him at times, at least their presence helped him to keep things in perspective. They were what was important; he had to do what was right for them, and that instinct helped him to make the right choices time after time.

"Story?" Al whispered, blinking sleepily up at him.

Harry smiled. "Not a chance. You'd fall asleep before I got the book out."

Al still managed a pout. "Would not," he said, his argument undermined by the second massive yawn that forced its way out of his mouth. Harry didn't reply; he just continued to gently comb his fingers through Al's hair, until Al yawned for a final time and his eyelids fluttered closed. Feeling a fierce rush of love for his youngest son, Harry gently ran his fingers across Al's brow and then left him to sleep, slowly and quietly standing up and heading towards the door. It was pretty late; he'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he'd not realised what the time was until James had stood up in the middle of the film and announced it was past Al's bedtime. The bickering match that had followed had been swiftly dealt with; James had gone to read in his room and Al had been dragged through the shower then tucked straight into bed with a promise that they could finish the film the next morning.

A soft thud from up above his head made Harry look up as he stepped out onto the landing, carefully shutting the door to the boys' room behind him. A strange prickle went up his spine as he realised that Draco must have taken on board what he'd said that morning and retired to their room instead of the spare room. It hurt him to know that he wouldn't be able to go up and join Draco for the night, but he knew that it was the right thing to do. The look of torment on Draco's face when they'd kissed earlier was still fresh in his mind, and it was only knowledge that it wasn't actually because of the kiss that made it bearable. God, how stupid could he have been, to kiss Draco like that, without warning or permission? He just hadn't been thinking, and Draco had been shouting at him exactly like he used to, and he'd been unable to help himself. At least Draco had only reacted with shock, not outright disgust or denial.

Forcing his tired body to keep on moving, Harry padded back into the living room and set about tidying up the toys and things that the boys had left. A few flicks of his wand and everything were back in some semblance of order; a proper tidy up could wait until the morning when he had more energy to spare.

Reaching for the television remote, he was about to collapse face first onto the sofa when a soft chiming noise rang from the fireplace, signalling that some inconsiderate twat was trying to call him via the floo instead of leaving him alone. Groaning, Harry debated ignoring it for a moment but then decided against it, unlocking the floo with some frustration and no small amount of reluctance. There were several of his friends who seemed to take him ignoring the floo as a personal insult, and he didn't fancy another lecture from Ginny or Hermione, who often insisted they were only being so damn nosey because they cared.

It was relief that he felt when the green flames flared up with Ron's face swimming in the centre; after what Luna had said earlier he'd half been anticipating Ginny and didn't have the energy that a full conversation with her required. Ron never cared if Harry was in a mood and subsequently acting like an arse, and on this occasion he looked as knackered as Harry felt. His hair was sticking up on end like he'd been running his fingers through it and he had a streak of what Harry sincerely hoped was paint on his cheek.

"Why do children come with a no-backsies policy?" he said grumpily, a hand appearing to wipe at the smudge on his cheek. "Jesus bloody Christ, they are doing my head in."

Harry snorted, sinking down to sit in front of the fireplace cross-legged. "Don't let Hermione hear you say that."

"Hugo's just drawn a picture of a lady with rather large tits over her latest book," Ron said, a wicked glint in his eye appearing despite his tiredness. "So she's pretty mad as well. Hugo daren't even move."

"Hugo is obviously channelling a bit of you at the moment," Harry replied with a grin.

"Sod that, he's obviously channelling Fred the way he's going," Ron replied wearily. "George is very proud. He wants the tits picture to put on his fridge. I'm trying not to get involved."

Harry laughed softly, and when he looked up again Ron was looking at him patiently. "So enough of that," he said firmly, clearly wanting to get to the point. "How're you doing? How's Malfoy?"

"Bit better, I think," Harry said truthfully. "He's remembering odds and ends at quite a reasonable pace…a new thing every six hours or so by my calculations."

"That's good!" Ron said, sounding impressed. "Remember Lockhart? He only remembered to write his name after a few years."

"It's different," Harry said, though he appreciated Ron's optimism. "That was a clean Obliviate – excessively powerful but clean. This with Draco…"

"Fragmented," Ron said, and Harry had to be impressed that Ron knew the correct term. Ron obviously saw the look on his face and interpreted it correctly, because he laughed. "Oh shut up," he said. "I do listen to you on occasion. So he's remembering fits and starts of things?"

Harry nodded. "So there's no telling what will come back and what won't. He might remember eighty per cent of everything, but the other twenty might be lost."

"As in Lockhart-lost?"

"Yep," Harry said heavily. "And knowing my luck it'll be the twenty per cent that concerns me that won't come back."

Ron shook his head, dismissive. "Have you ever met Malfoy?" he said. "Considering his track record, I say at least sixty per cent of his actions are motivated by you, or thinking about you, or trying to get revenge on you, or trying to wind you up."

Harry laughed; he couldn't help it. "I hope you're right."

"I'm always right," Ron said. "When I'm not I'm simply misinformed." At Harry's snort of laughter, his expression softened marginally. "How are you doing really? And no bullshit, please."

Harry shrugged. "Feeling a little hard-done-to by the universe, if I'm honest," he said, and Ron clucked his tongue in sympathy, but didn't interrupt. "It's hard," Harry admitted on a sigh, looking down at his foot and flexing his toes. "He's not like…he's not himself."

"What is he like?"

Harry pulled a face. "Nice," he said. "Boring. Jumps when I say jump, asks politely for everything. The only thing he's done that was remotely Draco-like was tell a reporter to fuck off."

"A reporter?" Ron questioned, looking pained.

"Saint Mungo's," Harry said dismissively. "Went for Draco's Mental-Malady therapy, and they twigged we were there. Wasn't too bad, but I'll have to check out the _Prophet_ in the morning."

Ron nodded, looking thoughtful. "So. You're saying that…after years and years of wishing that Malfoy wasn't such a twat…you're missing him behaving like a twat?"

Harry grimaced. "Not exactly," he said. "It's not the twat behaviour that I miss. It's the…I don't know. The humour. Sarcasm. The telling me when I'm behaving like a tit. Not taking any of my crap."

"Fair enough," Ron said, a hand reaching up to scratch at his ear. "You think he'll remember enough to go back to the way he was?"

"I don't know," Harry said honestly. "And-" he broke off, not sure he wanted to say it.

"Yeah?" Ron asked, his voice calm.

"It's whether…whether I'll still feel the same way about him if he doesn't," Harry admitted, feeling guilt but also a measure of relief roll through him as he finally said it out loud. "I mean, he still looks like Draco, but that's not-" He broke off, shaking his head and rubbing his temple, the same way that Draco often did.

"Well," Ron said dryly. "I had assumed it wasn't his looks that you fell for."

Harry glared balefully at Ron, who had the good grace to look suitably chastised. "Just saying," he muttered, and then sighed. "I wouldn't worry too much," he said, back to being trying to be helpful. "It's early days. He might wake up in the morning and remember you."

"He might not ever remember me," Harry said pointedly, and Ron sent him a stern look.

"Buck up, Potter," he said sternly, somehow reminding Harry forcibly of Professor McGonagall. "It _will_ be alright, you know it."

Harry smiled weakly. "I suppose. Sorry. Too tired for the Gryffindor attitude."

"Get your arse to bed then," Ron advised. "Have a beer, a sleep, and then see you how feel in the morning."

It was good advice, apart from the bit about having a beer, and as such Harry nodded his agreement. "Give my love to everyone. Tell Hugo to behave."

Ron shot him a deadpan stare. "Oh yeah, I never thought of that," he grouched, and then he was gone, vanishing in a twist of flame and a dusting of glittering specks of ash. The last of the flames vanished and then Harry was left alone in the fading light of the evening, the room quiet around him. He felt better for having spoken to Ron; whilst he did feel horribly guilty about what he'd said concerning not feeling the same way about Draco, it was definitely a relief to have it out there. And besides, Ron was probably right; it was a good sign that Draco was getting some memories back already. Harry could only really be grateful that Ron had listened to him without wanting to over-analyse everything; he'd just listened and appreciated what Harry had to say.

He turned around and reached for the television remote, crawling over to the sofa and heaving himself up onto it. He pointed the remote in the general direction of the television and then wriggled around to get comfy, letting his body relax for the first time all day. He could have groaned in relief; the prospect of not having to do anything but stare at the television screen for the next couple of hours was incredibly enticing. If he picked the right channel, he might be able to stare and not even _think _for the next couple of hours.

He flicked through a few channels and settled for watching something showing Muggle police-officers chasing stolen vehicles around the country, aided by a helicopter or two. It was pointless and ridiculous and oddly satisfying, which was _exactly_ what Harry needed. He barely needed to engage any brain cells to watch the program, and there wasn't exactly any meaningful dialogue to keep track of.

A mere ten minutes later and Harry was almost asleep. The last of the light was fading fast outside and he was comfortable and relaxed and nodding on the verge of dreams. He could easily have fallen asleep right there and then, if a faint noise on the landing outside the room hadn't drawn his attention. Cursing his latent Auror-instincts that had never really gone away despite bailing on the training, Harry forced himself to open his eyes, trying to work out what had made the sound-

_Footsteps_, his brain supplied helpfully, a moment before a shadow heralded someone's arrival at the door.

"Draco?"

Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes and straightening his glasses as Draco pushed the door open and slipped inside. He looked tired, and was wearing a pair of loose fitting pyjama bottoms and a T-shirt that was actually Harry's. He didn't reply, just stood there for a moment, rubbing his upper arm with his other hand and looking down at his feet.

"You alright?" Harry asked, voice rough.

Draco looked up at him, reaching up to push his fingers through his hair, shifting his fringe to the side. "Couldn't sleep," he finally said, looking at Harry with a strange expression on his face, nervous and uncertain but oddly determined in a way Harry hadn't seen in a while.

"It feels like…" Draco began, his voice low. The lights from the television flickered over him, leaving his face half in shadow and the rest illuminated. He looked towards the window. "I remembered something. Some small things."

Harry tried to shake off the sleep that was still pulling at his mind, sitting up on his elbows and feeling his mind suddenly become alert. "Yeah?" he asked, already hoping and praying that the things would be about him-

Draco slowly walked over and perched on the edge of the sofa, next to Harry's knee. "Pulling a green blanket back from a bed," he recalled. "A low bed. And Scorpius, was leaning on my back and playing with these," he said, reaching up to touch his earlobes, gesturing to his earrings. "Trying to twist them," he said, with a short, brief smile. "And I cast a spell - _calefacio_."

Harry smiled. "Warming charm. Works wonders on blankets."

"I thought that might be what it was," Draco said, somewhat absently, and then turned to look out the window again, watching the last streaks of light in the sky. "And then I remembered something else. I was younger," he said. "In a shop, I think. With my Mother. There was an old man, with glasses and really pale eyes, and he said 'unicorn hair and hawthorn, ten inches precisely…'"

Draco trailed off suddenly, his brows drawing together. He twitched slightly and then his mouth fell open, and he turned to Harry so quickly that his neck clicked audibly. "My wand," he began distractedly, rubbing his neck. "I remember-" he looked genuinely confused, fingers coming up to press at his temple. "I remember having it, and I remember _you_ having it! I remember you standing there, and realising that you had _my_ wand-"

He broke off, looking bewildered. "Is that right?" he asked.

Harry felt his heart soaring in his chest, something inflating and swelling with disconcerting speed because _yes_, it was right and Draco remembered him – something about him. "What did I look like? In the memory?" he asked, trying to contain his excitement as he sat up properly and reached for Draco, a hand on his shoulder. Draco's brow furrowed, and then he looked Harry in the eye.

"You looked like shit," he said abruptly. "Like you'd not washed in weeks."

Harry couldn't help the grin that was spreading across his face. He flopped back onto the sofa with a laugh. "That's because I hadn't," he said ruefully. "Long story. I'm not going into it now."

He craned his neck up to look at Draco, and saw he was still looking confused. "I remember…I wasn't happy about you having my wand."

Harry propped himself up on his elbows. "Of course you weren't; I'd nicked it off you a few weeks before."

Affront was Draco's expression of choice. "You did _what?!_"

"It was the end of the war," Harry said. "My wand had been broken, and I…borrowed yours."

"Borrowed?" Draco said indignantly. "You said you nicked it!"

"I did win the war because I had it," Harry said pointedly. "If I hadn't had taken it from you, I probably would have died. It was all to do with wand ownership – you'd taken a wand from someone and then I took one of you…it had big consequences. "

Draco's brows flew up at that. "Sounds complicated," he said.

Harry smiled wanly. "You have no idea."

They fell into a comfortable silence; Draco stayed where he was beside Harry's knees and Harry stayed propped up on his elbows, quietly watching Draco. Harry could still feel the lingering remains of the euphoria he'd felt at Draco remembering something about him – he knew that memories tended to come in batches, so if Draco remembered one thing about him there could easily be more. Unless the obliviate was linked to periods of time, rather than individuals, which would be more complicated to deal with-

"We have a lot of history, don't we?" Draco's voice said, soft and quiet, and as Harry turned to look at him he felt a hesitant hand on his knee. Abruptly, the whole mood shifted from the easy camaraderie that he'd felt whilst discussing Draco's wand, into something decidedly more intense and sexual.

Harry swallowed. "Known each other since we were eleven," he said.

"You ever look at stars, first thing in the evening?" Draco suddenly said, eyes on Harry's and hand still on his leg. "When they first appear?"

Harry shook his head, nonplussed.

"It's like…when you're not looking right at them, you can see them. But when you look directly at them, you can't."

Understanding, Harry turned his gaze to look at Draco's hand, still resting on his leg. "Is that what it feels like?"

"With you," Draco said softly, earnestly. "I think that's why I trust you – I know you, I know this between us, but when I try and think directly about it, it slips away."

His eyes flickered over Harry's face and he shifted closer, reaching out to brush Harry's fringe aside. He ended up sitting right next to Harry's hip, pressing against him. Harry noticed his feet were bare and swallowed thickly, wondering what was going on in Draco's mind.

"And this is the most maddening thing of them all," he murmured as he touched Harry's scar. Harry privately agreed, but didn't say anything; he was too focussed on where Draco was taking this to turn the conversation back around to himself.

"You used to call me Scarhead," Harry said, shutting his eyes and breathing in and out through his nose as Draco's fingers gently traced across his forehead.

"Back when I wasn't very nice?" Draco whispered, and Harry nodded. He kept his eyes shut as he felt Draco gently take off his glasses, and swallowed thickly as he felt the same fingers that had touched his scar pressing against his sternum. He wanted it so badly he could taste it; he wanted to pull Draco close and kiss him over and over, and have him back where he belonged. He wanted it so much that he could almost ignore the part of himself which was saying that he couldn't do this, couldn't take what he wanted from Draco whilst Draco didn't remember him.

"I want to remember you," Draco whispered, his breath warm on Harry's ear and his fingers still on Harry's chest. "Christ, I want it so bad that – that I feel like-"

He didn't finish his sentence. Even with his eyes shut Harry could feel Draco moving, his breath whispering across his cheek and towards his mouth, and his heart was aching for the feel of Draco's mouth on his, even as his hands itched to push Draco away because this wasn't fair, wasn't right-

And Draco's mouth brushed his and he found he couldn't bring himself to say no. Draco's breath trembled in his chest and then he kissed Harry properly, catching Harry's lower lip between his own, his free hand sliding onto Harry's neck and pulling him close. He drew the kiss out for one long, lingering moment and then he moved, kissing Harry again, shifting closer and closer so their bodies were pressing together, Draco twisting awkwardly over Harry.

"Draco," Harry managed to gasp, one hand on his shoulder. "Hang on-"

It was a mark of how little he knew this not-so-improved Draco that he felt genuinely surprised when Draco did as he asked and pulled back. It took him a while to reorder the thoughts in his mind; he'd mentally prepared for slightly more arguing than it had actually taken.

"I just…" he began, breathing out heavily. His pulse was still thudding strongly in his chest, making him feel short of breath. "You don't remember me. Us."

Draco seemed to mull that over. "No," he said slowly. "But I know I will. I can feel that I will."

Harry groaned, letting his head fall back onto the sofa and blinking up at the blurry ceiling. "You're killing me here."

Draco didn't reply for a while, and then Harry felt soft fingertips on his abdomen, making pulse surge again. "That wasn't my aim," he said quietly, and then he was moving, clambering over Harry so his knees were either side of his hips, his hands either side of Harry's head.

"I know I want you," he said, and the honesty made Harry's head spin. "So I can either drive myself mad trying to remember why, or just go with it."

Harry thought about it for a full ten seconds. His eyes met Draco's, and Draco was waiting patiently for him to decide, waiting for Harry to do something. God, Harry knew full well what he should do; he should let Draco down gently and invited him to sit with him a while and talk some more about the memories Draco remembered, maybe tell him stories of life at Hogwarts to see if he remembered anything. But when it came down to it, Harry was fed up. Fed up of trying to do the right thing, fed up of saying no, fed up of not having Draco close to him. God, he shouldn't – this was probably a monumentally bad idea, but he couldn't say no anymore.

"Go with it then," he finally said, and Draco didn't even hesitate. He simply lowered his head and then they were kissing again, and Harry was sliding his hands up Draco's sides, palms hot on his skin. Part of him did briefly think that he could probably get away with doing anything with Draco now that he didn't remember his hang-ups, or what he had to be insecure about, but he told it to shut the fuck up. If Draco did ever get his memories back and he realised that Harry had exhibited anything but his best behaviour, he would never hear the end of it.

He drew in a sharp breath as Draco shifted, lowering himself down so his body was pressed flush to Harry's, his hips pressed to Harry's and his body oh-so warm. He felt Draco's groan against his own chest, and responded by slipping his hands down Draco's back to cup his arse, fingers digging in to the thin fabric of his pyjama bottoms.

Draco let out another groan and Harry hastily let go of his arse to grope on the floor next to the sofa, looking for his wand. The movement distracted Draco, who pulled his mouth away from Harry's to look what he was doing. "Here," he said, craning up to reach for Harry's wand, which turned out to be nowhere near where Harry thought it was. "I assume this is what you're after?"

Harry nodded, sitting up enough so that he could see the door. Draco shifted with him, ending up sat right across Harry's crotch, his knees either side of Harry's hips. He slid his hands onto Harry's neck and Harry shivered, almost distracted enough to forget what he was doing. One hand on Draco's back, he pointed his wand at the door to close it, casting a quick locking charm and a one-way silencing charm as well.

"Done," he said, tossing his wand back onto his floor and kissing Draco hard. Draco gasped against his mouth but kissed him back eagerly, and Harry had to wonder how the hell he could be so good at this if he could never remember doing it before.

He could almost kid himself that everything was back to how it should be; leading up to the incident he and Draco had been growing closer and closer and that had shown in the bedroom as well. He could remember the last night they'd had together before Draco had been taken; it had been almost playful, full of teasing banter and laughter, soon lost in gasps and groans.

There wasn't going to be any banter this evening, but Harry didn't even care, not when Draco was kissing him like he needed to in order to survive, his body pressed tight to Harry's and his hips starting to shift in a tell-tale way. Fuck, he couldn't even remember to feel guilty anymore, not when Draco was so eager-

Harry sank bank onto the sofa, pulling Draco with him so Draco again ended up straddled over him, his knees either side of Harry's hips. One hand was pressed into the cushions next to Harry's head and the other was slipping under Harry's t-shirt, gliding up his chest and across his skin. God, it took Draco so long to trust Harry enough to do something like that so easily, and now he was doing it like there had never been a problem at all.

He ran his hand down Draco's back and as he did Draco dipped his body, his knees slipping apart so that with a gentle push from Harry's hand on his lower back, his crotch ended up pressed to Harry's. Harry felt as well as heard him moan and knew exactly why; he could feel Draco's erection pressing into his own even though the fabric of his jeans.

"Oh, Christ," Draco gasped, and Harry pressed him down harder, wrapping a foot around Draco's calf and kissing him frantically. Without even pausing to think, he shoved his hand down the back of Draco's pyjama bottoms, needing to feel skin under his palm.

"Shit," Draco managed, and then the fucker was moving, pulling up and away – Harry opened his mouth to protest but Draco's fingers were at his belt before he could even organise a decent protest. Draco looked wild eyed and completely and utterly _gone_ – something that Harry had yet to see from him. The hints of vulnerability and uncertainty were gone, and he just looked like someone who really, really needed to get Harry naked as soon as he possibly could. Christ, it was as if Harry was taking a randy, eighteen year old virgin to bed, not a twenty-seven year old with too much experience and several serious hang ups-

And then suddenly Draco's fingers paused on Harry's belt, and he took a deep breath in. "Are you sure?" he said, looking uncertain for the first time in ages. "I feel – do you-" He took a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to do this if we still don't remember each other?"

Harry stared at him. "I'm beyond caring," he said. "I miss you. Christ, I miss you so fucking bad already, and I – if you want it, I-"

Draco seemed to take that as good enough. His fingers moved again and he yanked Harry's belt open and unbuttoned his trousers in several swift, impatient motions. Harry managed to lift his hips enough for Draco to yank his trousers down a little, and then Draco was kissing him again, his breath catching in the back of his throat.

"Wait – we need-"

Draco pulled back and nodded, and then promptly frowned. "I don't even know how I know we need that," he said, and Harry laughed. "I can't ever remember doing this."

_Good job_, Harry thought, but didn't say it out loud. "Bedroom," he said. "Our bedroom. Drawer on my side of the bed."

Draco nodded, pushing himself up off the sofa and scrambling away, his erection clearly tenting the front of his pyjama bottoms. Harry tore his eyes away long enough to grab his wand, pointing it to unlock the door a fraction of a second before Draco got there, yanking it open and vanishing without a word.

Heart hammering in his chest, Harry laid back on the sofa, covering his eyes with his forearm and trying to calm himself down. His breathing was shallow and anticipation was thrumming through his body, and somewhere in the back of his mind he was wondering why he hadn't just followed Draco upstairs to bed rather than waiting for him on the sofa. Maybe because the bedroom still seemed like _theirs_, and they weren't back to being _them_ yet, or maybe because if he got up and moved his rational brain would turn back on and he would admit that this wasn't a decent thing to be doing-

The thoughts fled as he heard Draco's footsteps coming down the stairs and across the landing, and he propped himself up on his elbows as Draco edged back into the room, shutting the door behind him. His face was flushed and he was looking at Harry with such want written all over his face that it made Harry shiver, feeling open and exposed in a way he never had before. God, if this was how Draco really felt about him, he had nothing to worry about – the old Draco often hid his feelings and shied away from his emotions, but now Draco was showing Harry _everything, _down to the very last feeling_._

Harry flicked his wand one last time to lock the door, and then Draco was striding across the room, clambering back onto the sofa and across Harry's waist, a familiar tube clenched in his hand. He didn't even speak; he just leant down and kissed Harry hard, and Harry's breath caught in the back of his throat and he couldn't help but wonder if this was how Draco would always have been had his confidence not been decimated by what had happened to him-

Fuck, he shouldn't do this. He should tell Draco, shouldn't keep anything from him, but what he should do and what he wanted to do were very different things, and Harry was feeling selfish enough to just go with what they clearly wanted at that very moment. It would be different if he and Draco hadn't reached this point before, he reasoned desperately, unable to stop kissing Draco. It wasn't as if this would be their first time together.

Draco pulled back and helped Harry sit up. Neither spoke; they just worked together to pull Harry's t-shirt up over his head, tossing it aside. Breathing heavy, they slowly and carefully stripped each other of the rest of their clothing, and too soon Harry found himself on his back with Draco between his thighs, bodies pressed tightly together. It was too warm and the fabric of the sofa wasn't exactly the most pleasurable thing to have naked skin rubbing against, but Draco's prick was pressing insistently against his groin and Draco was reaching down to pull one of Harry's legs up around his waist and Harry forgot to give a fuck about potential cushion-burn.

"This is where I've got a blank," Draco said hoarsely against Harry's neck, pressing one hand onto the sofa to push himself up, looking down at Harry's face. "I think I know what to do, but I'd really hate to be wrong."

Harry laughed breathlessly. "Let me turn over," he said, but Draco frowned down at him.

"Do you have to?"

Harry was a little taken aback. "Well, no," he said. "But normally you prefer being behind me."

Draco's frown deepened. "Why?" he asked slowly. "Because I get the feeling that I like to see your face."

Staring back at Draco, Harry felt the weight of the admission hit him right in the chest. Shit. Draco would never have admitted that out loud, not in a million years. Draco must have sensed something was amiss, because his frown turned worried. "What?" he asked, sounding uncertain.

"I love you, alright?" Harry said. Draco didn't move. "And even though you've never said it in that many words, I know you love me too. But…you don't often – you're not often so honest about how you feel. And definitely not so open about being emotional during sex."

Draco looked surprised. "But – I can tell I feel this stuff without even remembering, so why wouldn't I be honest about it?"

"People haven't treated you well. The people you were involved with before me," Harry said, and Draco reached up to press his palm to Harry's cheek, the look of concern on his face about breaking Harry's heart. "So you're a bit cagey about being open. And a bit cagey about sex. And a bit cagey about being honest. And about letting people near Scorpius. About trusting in general, really."

Draco's frown returned. "But…" he began slowly. "If that's in the past, and I'm now with you…surely I'd have got over it?"

Harry's mouth fell open. "That's what I've been telling you!" he said indignantly, unable to comprehend what Draco had just said. He must have looked suitably put out because Draco bit his lip, obviously trying not to laugh.

"Jesus," he said, shaking his head and looking at Harry with something that could almost be fondness. "Why the fuck did you put up with me?"

"Because I'm in love with you," Harry said bluntly. "Deal with it."

Draco's thumb gently stroked against Harry's cheekbone. "Okay," he whispered, and then he lowered his head to kiss Harry again. Harry kissed him back until he felt Draco press the tube into his palm, a silent request for Harry to take the lead. Harry obliged, even though he knew that he would much rather be led – sex was the one place he felt he could get away with letting someone else take control , the one place he could just let go.

Breathing heavily, he made short work of coating his fingers with lube, returning Draco's distracted kisses as best he could whilst trying to concentrate. It was awkward; Draco was still straddled over him which meant that Harry couldn't spread his legs far enough to properly relax. He had to reach down between their bodies, his shoulder and wrist protesting the stretch and the angle and his heart hammering painfully inside his chest.

Tilting his head back, Harry pushed two fingers inside himself at once, swallowing thickly and feeling a fleeting stab of embarrassment. He pushed it away; he couldn't be having his usual deliberation over how he felt about being fucked, not when Draco needed looking after, not when Draco was looking at him like that, leaning down to kiss Harry's neck with sloppy desperation.

His breath hitched in his chest as Draco's teeth scraped along the side of his neck, his breath ragged and as uneven as Harry's. Harry gritted his teeth and tried to reach that bit further; his fingers were only managing shallow penetration and he was still tight, too tight-

_Fuck it,_ he suddenly thought, abandoning preparing himself and reaching for the lube again. It was ninety per cent psychological, anyway, right? It never seemed to matter how much stretching he got, it was down to his frame of mind and if he could relax or not-

"Just do it," he said hoarsely, slicking his hands a second time and reaching down to slide his lubed fist the length of Draco's prick. Draco groaned brokenly and his hips jerked forwards, and Harry couldn't even begin to imagine how it must feel, not being able to remember any of the sensations. God, on one hand he wished they weren't so tightly wound so they could slow down and appreciate the experience, but on the other he just wanted to do this right now, without any metaphorical fucking about-

He grabbed Draco's hips and pushed him down between his thighs, needing this to happen in a way he hoped he would never have to articulate. He could only hope Draco was feeling the same; it certainly seemed that way as Draco grabbed Harry's leg and hitched it up around his waist.

"I," Draco tried to say, voice trembling, and then he kissed Harry hard, the words lost. Harry didn't care; Draco's actions so far this evening had told him more than enough, and he didn't need any more words to make him second guess or hesitate. He felt Draco reach down to take himself in hand, mouth still pressed to Harry's, and there was a moment of shuffling that took far too long, but then Draco seemed to get the hang of where his body needed to be, pushing into Harry in one trembling thrust.

Harry threw his head back, gasping and feeling his body clench tight. He'd been so wrapped up with worrying about Draco, trying to work out if he knew what to do or if he needed a hand, that he'd forgotten all about himself. He felt how tightly his hand was gripping Draco's hip and thanked whatever deity that might have been listening that Draco had stilled, panting and looking down at Harry with concern etched into his features.

"You okay?" he asked, sounding wrecked. His hips shifted minutely and Harry groaned brokenly, reeling from the shock of being penetrated, feeling his body fluttering and pulsing and trying to draw tight. He could barely think; all he could feel was dull pain, his heart hammering inside his chest, and Draco's palm against his cheek. He bit his lip, willing himself to relax, and felt Draco lean down and whisper the lightest of kisses to the corner of his mouth, then his nose, then one of his eyelids. Comforted by the gentle kisses, he exhaled heavily and let his legs fall wide. Draco must have felt his body relax because he pushed forwards without hesitating, opening Harry up with a series of short, careful thrusts.

It was awkward and uncomfortable; the cushions of the sofa were uneven and Draco's knees kept slipping between two of them, Harry's lower back was chafing against the material within the first five minutes, and Draco either couldn't get the purchase or the rhythm to hit as deep as Harry would have liked. Despite all that, it was possibly the best sex Harry had ever had. Draco's skin with slick with perspiration, sliding beautifully against Harry's own, his mouth was hot against Harry's, and their limbs were twined so tightly together that Draco was reduced to rocking rather than thrusting. It did cross Harry's mind to move, to have Draco bend him over the arm of the sofa and fuck him so hard that he'd never forget it, but he couldn't bear the thought of separating his body from Draco's for even a second. The moment Harry came, Draco had one arm hooked under one of his knees and his forehead pressed to Harry's, his body close enough that Harry swore he could feel the beating of Draco's heart alongside his own, any thoughts of the consequences of their actions completely and utterly lost in the moment.


	35. Chapter 35

_**AN:** Here I am, back again for more shenanigans. Just so you know...I'm currently editing the last chapter of this story. It will be up very soon, providing my personal life behaves. Thank you to Gylliweed for translating Scorpius's French for me, much appreciated. _

**Chapter 35**

"He remembers! James! Scorp! Come and look!"

One moment Harry was dozing peacefully, lying on his back with Draco stretched out at his side, half asleep and thinking of nothing but how content he felt to have Draco back in his arms. The next moment he was jerked awake by a shriek from the doorway that was probably loud enough to wake not only Harry and Draco, but everyone in the neighbourhood. Disoriented and confused, it took him a moment to realise who was shouting and why, but then his sleep-fogged brain caught up and he swore audibly, grabbing hold of the duvet and yanking it up towards his chin. If he weren't too busy being embarrassed and frantically trying to cover himself, he would have laughed at Draco's reaction; he frowned, yawned and propped himself up on an elbow, looking sleepy and bewildered for one glorious moment before mortification replaced the confusion and he also made a frantic grab for the edge of the duvet.

"Shit!"

"Papa!"

Scorpius appeared first, looking delighted and dashing over to the sofa, showing no qualms about clambering up onto them, his knees digging painfully into Harry's thighs. Harry could only be thankful that he'd had the presence of mind to transfigure one of the cushions into a duvet for him and Draco the night before, so even though they were both still sweaty and sore, they hadn't been caught sore and sweaty and naked.

"Scorpius," Draco protested weakly as Scorpius clambered further onto them, flinging himself onto Draco and wrapping his arms around his neck. Underneath the wincing caused by having small kneecaps digging into his abdomen, an uncomfortable flush was working its way over his cheekbones, and he was valiantly avoiding eye-contact with Harry – not that Harry blamed him in the slightest. Christ, they'd had _sex_ last night and hadn't even had chance to mention it and now they were having to deal with-

"Why are you sleeping down here?" Al's voice demanded, a moment before he appeared, standing at the foot of the sofa and glaring accusatorily at them. Even if he wasn't wearing his glasses, Harry could work out the blurry yet unmistakable expression of indignation on Al's small face. "You never let us sleep on the sofas."

Harry didn't really have an answer for that. He surreptitiously tried to pull the duvet his way so it was wrapped more securely around himself, somehow without exposing Draco in the process. Looking around for an answer or means of diversion, he suddenly caught sight of his trousers on the floor next to the sofa. He swiftly realised that the remainder of his and Draco's clothes were also draped unceremoniously around the room and prayed to god that Al wouldn't notice or comment.

"Because I'm a grown up," he finally replied, too distracted to think of a good reason to justify why they were on the sofa. He twisted to the side, looking around in vain for his glasses. "Go pick something for breakfast. I'll be there in a minute."

"Owl Crispies," Al replied promptly, leaning over the arm of the sofa and lifting his feet up so he ended up splayed out on his stomach, trying to keep his balance. "I always have Owl Crispies."

Harry bit back a swear word or two, wondering how he could possibly get Al to leave the room before the situation got any more awkward than it already was. Al had stopped in his balancing act and was now simply leaning on the arm of the sofa, eyeing Harry and Draco curiously and with what appeared to be an odd sort of satisfaction on his face.

"I'M GOING TO EAT THE REST OF THE OWL CRISPIES!" A thundering of footsteps and a triumphant yell heralded James's passing; Al's face immediately turned into an expression of outraged fear as the footsteps continued, audibly dashing down the stairs towards the kitchen.

"No you're not!" he yelled angrily back, scrambling to right himself and running from the room. "James! Don't!"

Scorpius shouted something in French and swiftly followed, sliding off the sofa and running out of the room. Feeling thankful that cereal was apparently more important than antagonising parents, Harry blew out a breath, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. As he did, he abruptly realised just how empty the room seemed without shouting children filling up the space; the silence that followed their departure was far too loud, and he could practically feel Draco's eyes on the back of his neck.

He swallowed thickly, wondering what to do, what to say now he had his opportunity. Should he acknowledge what had happened, what they'd done? What _he'd_ done - even though _technically_ it had been Draco who had done the doing. Despite that thought, guilt was starting to rise in his throat like bile, cloying and acidic. Fuck, he should never have let anything happen-

Out of nowhere, he felt a gentle hand slide over his shoulder, soft and warm and reassuring. He shut his eyes, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and Draco's other hand slid over his back. Without speaking, he slowly let Draco pull him around, lying back down at Draco's side with his head on Draco's chest and his body pressed up close to Draco's side, one leg thrown over Draco's thigh. Draco didn't utter a word either; he just ran his fingers through Harry's hair, his closed mouth pressed to Harry's forehead and his expression quiet and contemplative.

His intent with the gesture was unmistakable, and it did help Harry to relax and let go of some of his worries. Draco clearly wasn't mad or upset by what had happened, and at the end of the day it had taken both of them to make the decision last night. Harry couldn't even really remember whose idea it had been; Draco has initiated the kissing, yes, but he'd not suggested sex, had he? Harry couldn't remember. All he could remember was wanting Draco too much to care that he shouldn't.

"Okay?" Draco finally asked some time later, his voice low and calm.

Harry blinked slowly, but didn't reply. He wasn't sure if he was okay, and wasn't sure if he had the energy or wherewithal to lie and say he was. He was tired, he was unsure if himself and what he'd just done, and he was more than a little uncertain about the future of his and Draco's relationship.

Movement disturbed his thoughts; Draco shifted so Harry had to lift his head from his chest, waiting patiently as Draco wriggled around, turning onto his side and moving down so he and Harry were nose to nose, bodies close and legs pressed close together. Despite that it was really too warm, Draco pulled the duvet up over their shoulders, slipping his hand onto the side of Harry's neck.

"Thank you," he said softly, and Harry frowned, slightly confused.

"What for?"

"This," Draco said simply, and Harry saw his eyes flick down to Harry's mouth and back up again. "I – I feel safe for the first time since I was attacked. Really, truly safe."

Harry nodded, acknowledging the thanks without saying anything. Draco would never have said something like that to him before; he would have kicked Harry in the crotch rather than be so open and easy to read. God, it was so difficult – at face value Harry had everything he wanted; Draco was here and safe and willing to be in a relationship with Harry despite not even knowing him properly, but he still wasn't right. They still weren't right.

Harry leant in and gently kissed Draco, allowing himself the small comfort. Draco kissed him back, gently and softly, and Harry could only try and push away the niggle of uncertainty that sat in his chest. If he kept thinking that this wasn't right then it never would _feel _right. He just had to accept the circumstances as they were and move on, if it were possible for him to do so.

"What do we have to do today?" Draco asked quietly, his lips brushing gently over Harry's cheek and the corner of his mouth as he spoke. It was bizarre; it seemed as if Draco couldn't bear to be apart from Harry, even for a second or by an inch. Harry had no idea how it must feel for Draco; it must be truly infuriating to know that you needed someone but not know or understand why.

"You've got to go back to Saint Mungo's, don't you?" Harry said. He could feel Draco shifting against him, his leg sliding over Harry's hip in a maddeningly tantalising way. He ached just to press him close and kiss him until they forgot that Draco should be remembering, until they could just care about the moment and not the past that had been snatched away from them. God, he'd not felt want like this is ages, not since he'd first shared a bed with Draco.

"Every day this week, then down to every other day for a fortnight, and then I don't know," Draco said quietly, and then paused. "Can I ask you something?"

Harry nuzzled into the side of Draco's neck so they were cheek to cheek, his breath hot against Draco's skin. "Course."

"This might sound crazy…but have you ever been anywhere near a dragon?"

Harry felt a smile rising up through his chest, breaking out across his face. "Tell me more," he murmured, gently kissing Draco again and feeling a bubble of joy pushing its way past his worries. That sounded like another memory to him, and that was another memory about _him_. An old one, but a memory about him nonetheless.

"You were flying," Draco said slowly. "Is that right?"

Harry laughed, rolling them over so Draco was on his back, underneath him. The duvet twisted around them with the movement, trapping their lower bodies together. "You dreamt about me," he said, and Draco simply nodded.

Harry leant down to kiss him again, his mouth open against Draco's. Draco responded, the fingers of one hand trailing down Harry's chest and the other hand slipping onto the back of his neck. His skin was warm and soft and smelt faintly of sweat and sex, and Harry suddenly realised that he didn't want to be anywhere else. Yes, it was going to be hard, no, it wasn't ideal, but Draco was still here and still his, and he was remembering more and more things every day. At this rate he would probably be back to his old self, with memories and attitude intact around about Christmas time-

Harry lost track of his thoughts as Draco lifted his head slightly, kissing Harry back harder, moving from passively accepting the kiss into actively participating, breathing growing ragged and body arching and pressing against Harry's beautifully. Harry kissed him back with fervour, not even caring that they were on the sofa and that he should be-

"Eww, gross," a voice whined from the doorway, and Harry hastily detached his mouth from Draco's, turning his head to acknowledge the two small figures standing in the doorway and looking less than impressed.

"Je n'ai pas envie d'etre un adulte," Scorpius commented, wrinkling his nose in an expression of mild distaste.

Harry didn't understand what he'd said but Draco laughed, loud and bright, his head falling back against the cushions. He composed himself fairly quickly, looking up at Scorpius with a twinkle in his eye.

"You might change your mind when you get older," he laughed, and Scorpius flapped his hands at him in protest.

"Non! Je n'embrasserai jamais personne!" he insisted. "You're _gross._"

Draco simply rolled his eyes, the expression so familiar that it took Harry a moment to process it, feeling a fierce rush of love in his chest. That was two moments of Draco acting like Draco should, and whilst two small moments didn't seem like much in the grand scheme of things, to Harry it meant everything. It made his decision to go with it and try his hardest to make the relationship work seem much less daunting.

"Scorpius thinks we're gross," Draco informed Harry matter-of-factly, and there it was again, a hint of a drawl and the faintest trace of an amused smirk. "We better get up."

"What did he say?" Harry asked, somewhat distracted by Draco's face, hoping for another smirk or scowl. He belatedly glanced back over his shoulder and noticed that Scorpius and Al had once again darted away, their footsteps clearly audible on the stairs.

"That he never wants to be a grown up and he never wants to kiss anyone," Draco said, and Harry laughed.

"He'll change his mind when he hits puberty," he said, pushing away from Draco and sitting up. "Teddy's already changed his mind. Girls used to be disgusting and now they're the best thing since magic."

"Teddy?" Draco asked, the question clear in his voice.

Harry paused, having completely forgotten that Draco hadn't been told about Teddy or Andromeda. He debated for a moment whether he should tell Draco, whether he was ready to know, but then remembered how well his last decision to keep the truth from Draco had gone down. He wouldn't get away with it a second time, no matter if he genuinely thought it was in Draco's best interests to not know everything at once. "My godson," he said, reaching out to snag Draco's pyjama bottoms from the floor, and spotting his glasses lying just beneath them. He grabbed them and quickly cleaned the lenses on the edge of the duvet before slipping them onto his nose. "Your recently re-acquainted second cousin," he continued, handing Draco his pyjama bottoms. "He's ten, and he thinks you're awesome."

Draco's mouth fell open. "I've got relatives?" he asked, distractedly looking down and taking the proffered item of clothing. "I thought they were all dead?"

Harry shook his head, reaching down to grab his underwear from where he could see it poking out from beneath a cushion. "One Aunt, one cousin. You're not close with them, though. Not yet, anyway. You're only just started getting to know them since you've been with me."

Draco nodded, but didn't press the subject any further. He just got dressed quickly and quietly, looking thoughtful but at ease. Harry couldn't help but watch him as he dressed himself, disappointed that he couldn't just waste away more hours lying naked on the sofa.

"Are you able to take me to Saint Mungo's again?" Draco asked, watching as Harry turned the duvet back into a cushion with a flick of his wand. Harry nodded, feeling slightly surprised that the polite question hadn't irritated him as much as it would have done yesterday.

"Yep," he said. "You don't have to ask."

Draco looked at him a little blankly. "Well, if I didn't…I don't know where I'm going."

Harry laughed at that. "I meant that…yes. I'll always be around to do stuff for you. You ask like you're not sure if I would."

Frown turning contemplative, Draco waited until Harry stood up straight and then, much to Harry's surprise, stepped over and kissed him. He'd honestly thought that the moment between them would be gone the moment that they dressed, but apparently he'd thought wrong.

He stood still and let Draco kiss him, opening his eyes and fixing him with a questioning look when Draco stepped back. "If it's okay with you," Draco said, looking unsure of himself again, and Harry knew that he was talking about more than just the trip to Saint Mungo's.

"Yeah," Harry replied, not knowing what else to say. Of course it was okay with him – he felt that it would be so much easier to get through this if he was close to Draco. Harder in some ways too, but fuck it. Right now he'd take the physical closeness and the comfort that it gave him, despite the minor amount of emotional wrangling that came with it.

"You sure?"

"Yes," Harry insisted, and Draco blushed, looking down at the floor. "I said yes, didn't I? And anyway, it'll be less confusing for the kids. Even if they do think we're gross."

Draco smiled at that, finally looking up. "I suppose," he said, rubbing at the back of his head with his hand. He looked to the window and then back to Harry, looking like he wanted to say something important for a moment, before he gave up and simply said, "Breakfast?"

Harry smiled back at him. "Meet you down there. Get the kettle on, I'm going to have a quick shower."

Draco left the room without another word, leaving Harry alone for a moment to reflect. He felt strange, and he couldn't work out if it were in a good way or a bad way. It was almost as if with every small thing he and Draco got back, with every small way in which they reconnected, there were more things still standing in their way.

He vowed not to dwell on it too long. He couldn't change what was happening by brooding over it; he could only keep on going and trust that everything would fall back into place. He was quietly optimistic this morning; Draco had remembered yet another thing, which was undoubtedly positive news. It was even more so considering that it had happened whilst he had been asleep; obviously his mind was managing to filter past the obliviate whilst he was relaxed and dreaming, which could indicate that the block wasn't as strong as it potentially could have been.

Not wanting to linger or leave Draco alone in the lurch with the children for too long, Harry hastened to pitch himself through the shower. Going without wasn't an option; he was sore and sticky from the night before and he was pretty sure hadn't got himself completely clean during his midnight trip to the loo. Knowing his luck he'd nip for breakfast and Al would be in the mood to clamber all over him, and then Ginny would most likely floo-call and he'd sit squirming and thinking that she'd somehow _know. _And besides, he'd had one embarrassing morning-after-moment in the flat of a guy he didn't really know, which had been bad enough as it was without the guy trying to push Harry through the door because he'd realised that his one-night stand had kids. _Never again_, Harry vowed to himself as he made towards the bathroom with a towel slung over his shoulder; he was an adult and didn't want to feel like an embarrassed, dirty teenager ever again, thankyouverymuch.

He groaned aloud in satisfaction as he got under the hot spray of the shower, deciding that actually, Draco would be fine with the kids for the next ten minutes, or half an hour. The water was glorious and helped wash away the aches from a night sleeping on the sofa, as well as the sweat and stickiness from having sex on said sofa.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he washed himself down, remembering the night before. The memory filled him with a warm, deep satisfaction as well as delicious tendrils of pleasure that would undoubtedly end up as a full-blown erection if he remembered much more. God, to be so close to Draco again had been brilliant, and to actually get laid was almost as good. If he'd known he was gay back when he was a teenager, Harry suspected he probably wouldn't have done much else than spend all of his energy trying to get laid. He grinned, thinking that the peculiar behaviour of his mates back in the day was suddenly much more understandable; if he'd realised just how good sex could be when he was twenty he wouldn't have done anything else.

But then, he reasoned to himself, if that's how it had worked out then he probably wouldn't have the life he had today. And he certainly wouldn't have his kids. Maybe not even Draco; if he'd worked himself out early enough he might have ended up dating a normal person instead of ending up with an ex-criminal that he was supposed to be questioning, not kissing.

As he washed his hair, he found himself wondering what sex would be like if Draco did regain all of his memories. Would it be better? Or would Draco remember all of his old-hang ups and go back to being insecure and hesitant? Harry fervently hoped that he wouldn't; he could just imagine what it would be like to be in the hands of a confident Draco who was both unafraid and understanding of Harry and what he wanted, what he needed. God, it might even mean giving voice to some of those hazy fantasies that lurked around on the edge of Harry's mind, unacknowledged and unaccepted because of who he was, what people expected from him-

Harry hastily cut himself off before he could get carried away. His relationship with Draco was still fragile despite what they'd shared and how far they'd come, and he'd never voice anything like that to Draco without Draco understanding why he wanted it, needed it. What was with his unavoidable thoughts about sex, anyway? He'd gone long enough without it and managed to cope, so why was he now thinking about it constantly?

He gave up trying to work it out, instead getting out of the shower and heading upstairs to quickly get dressed. He still had to find someone to have the boys whilst he was out with Draco as well; Luna would probably say yes if he asked but he felt bad about constantly calling her just to watch the boys, when he'd barely had five minutes to spend decent time with her lately. He did briefly think of Hermione, but it sounded like she had enough on her plate without adding three boisterous boys to the mix. Ginny would gladly have them, but Harry wasn't sure she'd be willing to have Scorpius as well. Well, willing or not, Harry wasn't so sure that asking your ex-wife to take care of your new boyfriend's son was really the done thing.

His dilemma was short-lived; the moment he arrived in the kitchen, fully washed and dressed and presentable (and not thinking about sex) James made a beeline for him, expression already pleading. "Can we come with you?" he begged. "Draco says you've got to go out and I'm so _bored_ of staying in."

He looked up at Draco, who sent him an apologetic look. "I did say it probably wasn't a good idea," he said with a small hapless shrug. "Considering the photographers last time."

"Pleeeeease," came a whine from the table, and Harry shot Al an exasperated glance. "You haven't taken us anywhere this summer."

Harry opened his mouth to argue but, with a sinking heart, realised that Al was right. He'd only taken them to one barbeque and to the park once, and they'd dealt with being cooped up remarkably well. "We're only going to the hospital," he tried to argue. "It's not for fun, it's for-"

"But we could go to Diagon afterwards or before, it's not far from the hospital," Al said hopefully, and James nodded eagerly at his side. Harry inwardly groaned; when the two of them teamed up and actually agreed on something it was near impossible to refuse or get them to back down.

"But you know what it's like when we go out," Harry said pointedly. "Look, I'll ask Neville-"

James and Al both shook their heads simultaneously. "You," Al said adamantly, at the same time that James offered a "please?"

Harry sighed. His first instinct was that it was not a good idea to take the boys with them today, especially with Draco and Scorpius in tow. The press would hover, people would get too close, Harry would lose his temper and then there were would be days, if not weeks, of damage control. Not to mention the fact that old-Draco didn't want anyone to see him with Scorpius yet, or hadn't the last time Harry had asked. But the boys did love going to Diagon, and would be absolutely thrilled if Harry himself took them, like the place somehow became even more magical for his presence. Shit, even Scorpius was looking up at him hopefully, and he wasn't sure he had it in him to upset all three kids this early in the morning.

"What do you think?" he asked Draco, and ignored the excited looks that the boys exchanged. "Bearing in mind you've not been seen with Scorpius since you got back from France."

"I haven't?" Draco asked, looking at Scorpius with surprise. "Why not?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't want people talking about you? Worried you'll lose him? Being madly overprotective? Take your pick."

At his side, James snorted with laughter and then tried to hide it. "You protect Scorpius more than Dad protects us," he told Draco. "He's never even been to school."

"That's enough," Harry said mildly to James, and then turned his attention back to Draco. "I don't know what to say," he said honestly. "You'd be very cagey about going out with Scorpius, and considering what happened to you…"

Draco nodded slowly, listening carefully. "But when we went out the other day, nothing happened to me," he reasoned. "And we surely can't hide away forever because something might happen?"

"We can until whoever did it is caught," Harry replied evenly.

Draco shook his head. "What if they don't catch them?" he replied calmly, then looked down at his feet then back up again. "As long as you stay with me, I'm happy to go anywhere."

Harry bit his lip. He honestly didn't know what to do. If it were weeks after Draco's abduction he would go for it, but it was still so soon. But saying that, they had been out yesterday and they'd been fine, and they wouldn't exactly be wandering off into Knockturn Alley…

"We'll go for lunch and into Wheezes," he finally said, and James and Al both cheered, Al nearly upending his bowl of cereal as he threw his hands up in the air. "But," he said firmly. "We are going to go to Wheezes by floo, and then straight to the Leaky for lunch, and then straight home through their floo," he said. "Then Luna or someone will come and look after you whilst I take Draco to St. Mungo's. Deal?"

Al and James obviously saw the compromise for what it was and nodded eagerly, once more perfectly in synch. Harry rolled his eyes and wandered over to the kettle. "Half an hour then, and then we'll go."

James, Al and Scorpius immediately turned their attention back to their cereal, wolfing it down as if they had no idea how long half an hour would actually take. Exasperated but amused, Harry chose not to say anything, even though he knew full well they would all be ready and clamouring to go within minutes, claiming to be hungry only twenty minutes after eating breakfast. _Well,_ he thought to himself, _no-one had ever claimed that children would be logical creatures._

Reaching out to click the kettle on before grabbing himself a mug, he stood at Draco's side as Draco watched Scorpius chattering with Al, brandishing his spoon as if it were a sword.

"He looks so happy," Draco commented quietly, a smile on his face. "I just…I have a son, and he's happy. I can't have cocked up that badly."

Harry smiled too. "Or, despite your monumental cock-ups, you've managed to put things right."

Draco sighed. "I suppose," he agreed, and then gestured to his left arm with a nod. "I wouldn't have ended up with this if I hadn't cocked up somewhere."

"True," Harry conceded. "But you've more than made up for things."

Draco smiled properly at that, looking up at Harry with a wide, playful grin that reached his eyes and made him seem so much younger. It made Harry's heart skip inside his chest, and then Draco's eyes did that thing again, where they flicked down to Harry's mouth and back up again. Harry's pulse surged, and he bit the inside of his lip, unable to comprehend how obvious it was that Draco wanted him. That was probably why his brain had turned to thinking about sex all the time – because Draco was quite blatantly thinking about it all the time too. Had the old Draco thought about Harry like that as much as this new one appeared to, and just hid it well? Or was it a genuine change brought about by his loss of memory and his lack of inhibitions as a result? Should Harry even care?

Draco seemed to realise that he was staring; he blushed and looked down at his mug, biting his own lip in a way that sent Harry's pulse surging.

"I should go for a shower," Draco said, draining his mug and putting it down on the side.

Harry had to hold himself back from saying something entirely inappropriate, partly because the kids were still there and partly because he was a grown up and shouldn't be acting like a horny twenty-year old. He was supposed to be helping Draco get better and thinking about how to recover his memories, not devoting all of his spare time and energy thinking of inventive ways to get him into bed.

"There's some towels in the bathroom in the spare room," he said to Draco, busying himself with making his drink as Draco edged away towards the door. He assumed Draco had heard and acknowledged him and so left him to it, trying valiantly to not think about Draco getting naked and wet.

Instead, he turned his mind to what was in store for the rest of the day. Part of him didn't want to go out with Draco and the boys, but the bigger part of him ached to take the boys out, to see them smile and laugh and have a good time. As he turned the idea over in his head, weighing up the pros and cons, he realised that he wasn't actually too worried about someone coming after Draco. They'd obliviated him, thus rendering him useless to the Aurors, and they weren't to know it hadn't been done properly. As far as they were concerned, Draco was dealt with. If they'd wanted to kill him, they would have already done it.

Draco was right, Harry thought as he sipped his tea. They couldn't hide away forever just because, and the boys would never forgive him if he changed his mind and told them they couldn't go out. He'd never forgive himself if he let the boys have a crap summer, just because of what had happened. Well, the plan for the day was simple enough; one floo trip into Wheezes, which was safe (relatively speaking) and had the added bonus of having George and Ron on hand too. Then a short walk down Diagon Alley, which would only be problematic if James wandered off to look at something or if Al demanded ice-cream. Finally, a stop in the Leaky, which would be busy and probably full of people that Harry knew, with a quick exit via the floo that Tom let him use. They wouldn't have to go anywhere near the entrance to Knockturn Alley, which was much further along Diagon than both Wheezes and the Leaky.

Feeling buoyed by his positive thoughts, Harry finished his tea and set about finding his wallet and the shoes that the boys would need for their impromptu trip. It would actually be a pretty nice day, he reasoned, and felt himself smiling. After all, it hadn't been all that long since he'd hoped that Draco would agree to a trip to Diagon with the boys. And despite Draco still not having his memories back, it might even feel like a bit of a family outing. If the day went well and he and Draco had a good time, then surely it would be an indication that they could work together even if Draco didn't get his memories back? It would be almost like a first date - if they'd not already slept together, that was.

Even more pleased by the notion, Harry's smile got wider. They'd been through the worst with Draco, and now they were on the way up, and he didn't think that anything else could go wrong now.


	36. Chapter 36

_**AN:** this is the second to last chapter. It could have been split into two, but I decided against it. I'm just putting the finishing touches on the last chapter, and will publish it as soon as I can. Yes, I know I updated the day before yesterday, but I've kept you guys waiting stupid amounts for chapters before, so I'm posting early to try and make up for that a teensy bit. I'm going to miss this story more than I can articulate, so I'll just sit in a corner facing the wall for a while. Sob._

**Chapter 36**

"Right. You are to stick with me or Draco, and you are not to wander off without me or Draco at any point. Is that clear?"

James, Al and Scorpius all nodded eagerly, shifting impatiently and clearly itching to go. Harry didn't care; he wanted this expedition to be as pain and fuss free as possible, so was making his expectations clear from the outset.

"If any of you do decide to wander off for so much as a second, I will pick you up and carry you back home like a baby," Harry said, and all three boys nodded fervently again.

"Right. James, you go first. Ron's waiting the other end, don't go anywhere without me."

"Yeah, yeah," James said, but his tone was more eager than obnoxious so Harry let it slide. James turned to the roaring green flames with open anticipation all over his face, excitedly shouting 'Wizard Wheezes!' before jumping feet first into the flames and vanishing in a twist.

"Okay, Al-" Harry began, turning with his hand outstretched.

"I'm not a baby," Al whined, pouting. "I can go by myself."

"With me or not at all," Harry offered, and Al simply pulled a face and reached out for Harry's hand. Harry smiled fondly and bent down to pick Al up, balancing him on his hip with difficulty. By the kitchen table, Draco was already stood with Scorpius in his arms, leaning back against the table. He looked a little apprehensive, but Harry thought that he could only see the slight nerves because he was looking for them. Scorpius looked excited, and Draco was obviously excited for him, looking at Scorpius with a fond smile on his face.

"You two," Harry nodded towards the fireplace. "You know who you're looking for?"

Draco nodded and stepped up to the fireplace, holding Scorpius tightly to him. "Thank you," he said politely, and then turned to Scorpius. "Ready?"

Scorpius nodded eagerly, his face pressed against Draco's shoulder but his eyes open and wide. Harry smiled faintly at him and Scorpius grinned back, a moment before Draco stepped into the fireplace and was whisked away.

"How does Draco remember his manners if he doesn't remember anything else?"

Harry laughed softly at Al's puzzled question. "Not a clue," he said ruefully, looking down and then up around the kitchen to check everything was as it should be before he left. As he did, his glasses slipped down his nose. "Hang on, straighten my glasses for me?"

Al obediently reached up and pushed Harry's glasses back up, smiling as Harry gave him a nod in thanks. "Does Draco still love you?" he asked as he traced his fingers along the metal frames of Harry's glasses. The question was neutral, tempered with slight curiosity, and it struck Harry just how young Al actually was. Sometimes it was easy to forget, especially when he considered how quickly James was growing up.

"Yes," he said simply, and Al nodded, apparently pondering the answer.

"So he won't move out?" he asked uncertainly. "James said he might move out."

Harry shifted Al so he was holding him more securely. "He's not going anywhere," he said firmly. "Don't you worry about it."

Al nodded, seeming appeased. He curled his arms around Harry's neck and pressed close, and Harry took that at his signal to move. He stepped towards the fireplace, hoping that James had listened and that Draco and Scorpius had ended up in the right place, because chasing them over London was not on his list of priorities today. He wanted to appease his children, get some lunch and see if Draco would hold his hand in public, risk of reporters be damned.

"Can I have a pygmy puff today?" Al asked hopefully as Harry stepped into the cool green flames of the fire.

Harry simply shook his head; he didn't feel the need to have the same argument he had every time they went near Wheezes. He simply focussed on saying 'Wizard Wheezes' without choking on ash, holding Al tightly to him and shutting his eyes as they were magicked away. Travelling by floo was just as nauseating as it ever had been, and Harry was just hoping that he would make it out the other side without breaking his glasses or Al-

He felt his body lurch forwards and fresh air hit his face; he took a gamble and simply stepped forwards, praying that he was stepping in the right direction. He staggered and felt hands grab his shirt. He waited to see if he was going to fall, and then when he didn't, he cracked open an eye and saw George standing in front of him, strong hands keeping him from landing on his face.

"Thanks," he managed to say as George set him upright and with unnecessary exuberance, started vigorously brushing soot off of Al, who was already cackling madly with laughter and trying to swat George's hands away. Looking around, Harry saw that he was exactly where he was supposed to be, in the flat above the shop, and to his relief he saw that James, Draco and Scorpius were also there. James was rooting through a box by the sofa that was labelled 'spares' and Draco was stood with Scorpius at his side, looking uncertain. Ron was also there, standing near Draco and Scorpius with his arms folded and a frown on his face.

"George, thanks," Harry said, exasperated as George continued to emphatically brush them down. He elbowed him to get him to stop, rolling his eyes when George just grinned brightly at him. He turned to speak to Ron, raising his eyebrows in question when Ron shot him a worried look.

"He was making small talk," he whispered to Harry, walking over and trying to act casual, missing the mark by a mile. "Asking me how Hermione and the kids are. Being _nice._"

"He is there, you know," Harry said, exasperated. "He's just being nice, he's not tricking you or anything."

Ron didn't look convinced. "He said _Hermione_," he whispered, looking pained.

"Well he doesn't remember any better – well, any worse," Harry amended, letting Al slither down his side to the floor and watching as he made a beeline for James and the box. Even Scorpius was wandering away from Draco, looking intrigued by whatever James had found. Draco could blatantly hear everything that was being said, but he was turned away from Harry and Ron and watching Scorpius, his expression completely neutral.

Ron nodded slowly, eyes on Draco and small amount of suspicion still clearly written over his face. Harry didn't know whether to find it funny or not, so just settled for shaking his head at Ron.

"Right, brats," George called cheerfully. "Fancy a tour? Let's leave the boring grown-ups to chat and we can go and behave sensibly downstairs."

James grinned at that, and turned a hopeful expression on Harry. "Can we go with Uncle George?"

Harry didn't want the kids running off, and whilst he trusted George to take care of them, he didn't quite trust him to return them in their original state, either. He looked to Draco with a raised eyebrow and Draco nodded, working out what Harry wanted before he even had to ask.

"I'll come with you," he said to George, and the boys all exchanged excited glances.

"Come on," Al said eagerly, grabbing Draco's free hand and pulling him along. "Come and look at the pygmy puffs!"

Harry watched as Draco sent him an alarmed look, gently trying to resist being bodily pulled across the room by Al and Scorpius. Harry just sent him a reassuring smile, before shouting at George's retreating back.

"Don't do anything to him! He's going to the hospital later, he needs to be normal!"

"I'm sure he'll be fine." George replied in a sing-song voice, already down the stairs and heading into the shop.

"George!" Harry hollered. "I mean it!" He turned his attention quickly to Draco. "Don't eat, smell or touch anything, if you can get away with it."

Draco simply looked more alarmed than ever, but allowed Scorpius and Al to drag him from the room, both chattering on-stop about what they might see and what could possibly happen. Harry felt more at ease now that Draco had gone to accompany George, if only to have two pairs of eyes to keep on the boys whilst they explored.

"You we're right," Ron said fervently, drawing Harry's attention back to the room. "He's nice and it's weird and I don't like it."

Harry laughed, leaning back against the back of the sofa as Ron walked into the small kitchenette, giving a small trembling box that sat on the worktop a very wide berth before opening a cupboard and rifling through, evidently on the hunt for something.

"Never has any good food," he grumbled, more to himself than Harry, continuing to poke past tins and boxes that evidently weren't up to scratch.

"What's in the box?" Harry asked curiously, as it made an odd squeaking noise and trembled more violently than ever.

Ron grimaced. "If I told you, you'd have to get someone to arrest George," he sighed bluntly. "I did try to talk him out of it."

Harry held up his hands. "I don't want to know," he said firmly. "I'll just plead ignorance, shall I?"

"Probably best for everyone if you do," Ron said gravely. "On another note – have you seen the paper this morning? I'm guessing you haven't, because you're not in a foul mood."

Harry groaned, his shoulders slumping. What with sleeping with Draco last night, he'd all but forgotten what had happened at St. Mungo's. "They published something?"

Ron nodded, abandoning his quest for food and walking over to the window, picking up a newspaper that was lying on the sill. "Here," he said. "Front page again, though it is the bottom half."

Harry swore. "Wonderful," he said flatly, reaching out to take the paper. "I don't even see how it merits front page news…"

Even as he said it, he unfolded the paper to see the photograph that took up about a quarter of the page, and he had to admit that it did look pretty intriguing. It was a snapshot of him and Draco walking down the stairs into the reception of St Mungo's, and Harry could see Draco's hand holding onto his arm, could see the way he stood slightly in front of Draco, his shoulder between him and the crowd. Draco's face was tilted down towards the floor, and as the picture moved, Harry looked away from the camera and towards Draco, his mouth moving with unheard words. The headline that scrolled around the photo simply said, '_Harry Potter seen accompanying Draco Malfoy in first appearance in seven years.' _

"Could be worse," Ron ventured, coming to stand at Harry's side and giving the paper a once over. "At least they use his name instead of calling him a Death Eater."

Harry nodded in agreement, eyes skimming the article. In fairness, it wasn't really that bad; it didn't slate Draco for what he'd done in the past, it just speculated on where he'd been and why he was back. It didn't even – oh wait, yes it did. Two paragraphs in and it mentioned Harry's divorce and the questionable circumstances, and speculated whether Draco was now his partner.

"So I'm officially gay then," Harry said mildly and Ron snorted with laughter.

"You've always been gay," he said dismissively. "I'm surprised it took them so long to work it out."

"Maybe sending Draco down there wasn't such a good idea," Harry said, still scanning the paper. Three paragraphs in and it was speculating on why Draco was in the hospital in the first place. "He might get mobbed."

"Barely legal anti-reporting charms, remember?" Ron said. "He'll be fine. George is there anyway and he'll look after him. Don't look like that - I meant he'll stop anyone else from doing anything to him. He's been fairly positive about Malfoy really, I think he finds him oddly fascinating. Not in the same way _you_ find him fascinating, mind, but yeah."

Snorting with laughter, Harry tossed the paper aside onto the sofa, feeling oddly calm about being on the front page again. All that had really happened was that debate over his sexuality had been brought back into the public eye. He did have to wonder if any subsequent interest would get out of hand because of this initial observation, and hoped that they could at least go the rest of the day without being hounded for quotes and photos.

"Sod it," he said. "Nothing I can do about it now."

"True," Ron conceded, reaching back to pick up the newspaper and looking at the photograph. "You do look pretty couple-y here, but I don't know if it looks that way to me because I know you're a couple." He paused, and then glanced at Harry. "I mean, if you still are."

Harry nodded, remembering the night before and feeling his cheeks warm. "Yeah. We still are."

"Going on a bit of faith?"

Harry bit his lip, wondering whether he should lie, just to save him and Ron the awkwardness of having this conversation. But on the other hand, the only other people he felt he actually could talk to were Ginny (which was out of the question considering what he currently wanted to talk about), Hermione (which would probably end up feeling like a medical examination), Luna (which would be as pointless as it would be confusing) and Ellis.

"More than a bit of faith," he mumbled, and Ron raised his eyebrows in question, paper still held up in front of him.

"Dare I ask?"

"Well, he remembered some stuff last night, and we got talking, and then…" Harry trailed off, shrugging and hoping Ron would get the gist.

"You kissed him?"

Harry made a non-committal hum of not-quite agreement. "And the rest."

Ron's mouth fell open into a perfect O of shock, and he gaped at Harry, looking torn between high-fiving Harry and hitting him. "You what?" he managed. "You _slept_ with him? But he still doesn't remember you!"

"I know," Harry tried to justify. "But he wanted to, and I wasn't about to say no, was I?"

"Maybe you should have," Ron retorted. "I thought you'd given up on shagging strangers?"

Harry winced, the words hurting more than Ron had probably intended. He was only just keeping the guilt at bay as it was. He understood what Ron was implying, but Draco was _not_ a stranger – he was _Draco_, and just because he'd lost most of his memories didn't make him a _stranger_.

"He's not a stranger," he said tersely to Ron. "Just – I know I shouldn't have, but we did, and I can't change it now. Anyway, we both feel better because we did it."

Ron stared at him for a long moment, and then nodded, lowering the paper. "Sorry, mate," he said gruffly, and then sighed. "That came out sounding more tosserific than intended. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"Me neither," Harry said simply, and there was a moment of silence. Ron still looked a little guilty, presumably about what he'd said, so harry chose to change the topic slightly, to something more positive. He nudged Ron with his elbow. "He's remembering stuff, you know."

"More?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Couple of things. His wand. Remembers me having his wand."

Ron started to laugh. "He knows you nicked it?"

Harry couldn't help the faint smile that crossed his face. "Yeah. Still doesn't remember why I nicked it though, so it's okay. I think he remembered watching me in the Triwizard tournament as well."

"Well, that has to be a good sign," Ron said encouragingly. "Shows it's all coming back, right? Even if it's slow."

Harry nodded, pushing himself up away from the sofa. "That's what I'm hoping. He's remembering stuff as he dreams as well, which is a good sign. It's all about unconscious retrieval and stuff, shows he can get past the block when his mind is relaxed enough."

Ron just stared at him blankly. "You sound like Hermione."

"Fuck off," Harry replied, heading towards the door. "There's only two or three things I actually know more than a knut about."

Ron laughed behind him, and Harry heard his footsteps following. "Lucky obliviation's one of them then."

"Yeah, but I don't know if it's made it better or worse for knowing the probability of him recovering," Harry explained. "Like every time something positive happens I remember the theory and then convince myself it's still shit and that it might not all come back."

Ron made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat. "Is he going back to St. Mungo's any time soon?"

"Yeah, after lunch," Harry said. "I called Luna earlier, she's coming to take the kids whilst we go. I don't really feel like dealing with them _and_ the hospital, so I'm going to take them home and then come back with Draco. Worth an extra floo-trip."

"Good idea," Ron said. "Especially if there's more reporters about."

Harry sighed. "I hope not," he said, and then exhaled heavily, turning his mind to the day ahead. "Right, I better catch them up before Al steals any of your pygmy puffs," he said. "You coming down with us?"

Ron shook his head. "No, I'm on development duty today. I need to be in the back to check on the thing that is most definitely not in the cupboard and is not dangerous in any way shape or form."

Harry couldn't help but laugh, wondering if he would ever have been able to manage life as an Auror with his friends committing so much low-level crime around him. Considering that he'd been in Georges flat barely five minutes and he'd already heard of two possibly illegal things stashed in boxes and cupboards, the answer was probably not.

"Alright," he laughed. "Have fun dealing with your completely legal boxes of safe things that I know nothing about."

Ron grinned in return and clapped him on his shoulder, before disappearing down the stairs and heading to the workroom. God, it seemed a lifetime ago that Harry had been in there, drinking tea and telling Ron that he'd found out that Draco was a rentboy. Shaking his head and marvelling at how the time seemed to have vanished - or expanded, he wasn't sure which - Harry quickly descended the stairs and pushed through the door that would lead him into the shop front. The moment he did, a wall of noise hit him; children laughing and shrieking and the whizzes and bangs and rattles of thousands of toys and tricks. The shop was as bright and busy as ever, and Harry immediately felt glad that he'd brought the boys here. They could spend hours and hours delving through the magic of the shop, and he wasn't inclined to stop them anytime soon.

"It's Harry Potter! Mum, look!"

He heard one shout of his name, but ignored it. Instead, he turned right and walked down an aisle, keeping his eyes peeled for Draco and the boys. He stepped over a long tendril of something that was meandering its way across the floor, careful not to touch; he didn't fancy spending half of his morning wrapped up or hanging from the ceiling.

Edging past a bunch of children – Hogwarts fourth or fifth years, by the looks of things – that were crowded around a display of snackboxes, all trying to work out how many they could buy if they all chipped in. Harry looked left and right and then spotted a familiar shock of blond hair, standing over by the pygmy puff cages.

"Just so you know, we made the paper," Harry murmured to Draco as he sidled up to them, watching as Al and Scorpius stuck their fingers through the cage bars, gently stroking a humming pygmy puff. "Where's James?"

"With George," Draco replied, eyes still on Scorpius as he tickled the pygmy puff, whispering to it in a mix of English and French. "He wanted to look at the yelping yo-yo's, whatever they are. What paper?"

"The Daily Prophet," Harry said, standing close to Draco and resisting the urge to slip his hand around his waist. "It's okay. Just a photo and lots of speculation. Guesses that we're a couple, but doesn't confirm it."

Draco nodded, glancing behind him as a troupe of giggling girls edged past, love-potions clutched in their hands. "Are we still okay to be out?"

"Yeah, should be alright," Harry said, stepping even closer as he moved out of the path of the girls. "Just be ready for an inordinate amount of interest in your personal life at truly inconvenient moments."

Draco laughed softly, and was about to open his mouth to speak but his words were lost under Al's emphatic whine from next to his elbow, turning to Harry with an almost distraught expression on his face.

"Daaad, _please_ can I have one, please? George says they don't take much looking after."

"No," Harry replied firmly, and Al's expression grew more desperate.

"Please," he begged. "I promise to look after it."

"No," Harry repeated, and resisted the urge just to say _'ask your Mum,' _so Ginny could deal with the whining and not him. Al looked very much like he was debating a tantrum, but at Harry's warning look he just pouted instead, reaching up at Harry with arms outstretched.

"Pick me up."

It wasn't a question, it was a stroppy demand. Even so, Harry bent down to heave Al up into his arms, willing to placate him if it helped to avoid a crying fit in the middle of the shop. Al wound his arm around Harry's neck like he'd done earlier and Harry had to wonder how much sleep he'd got the night before, or if he'd been restless and unsettled. That would certainly explain some of the whinging.

"Please?" Al murmured once more, and Harry shook his head. Defeated, Al just sighed, looking up around the shop and then pointing over Harry's shoulder. "Over there."

Harry rolled his eyes and moved the way Al had indicated. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Draco smiling as he followed, though Harry couldn't be sure what was causing his mouth to curve in that small, delightful way.

"Look, it's Harry Potter! Over there with the kid!"

He hastened to move out of the way as he heard another fervent whisper of his name, walking around the edge of an aisle and spotting James and George over behind a model of a unicorn that was pouring white and pink sweets from the tip of its horn, much to the delight of the two little girls who were stood by it, enraptured. Thankfully – or not, depending how you looked at it – James wasn't at all bothered with the unicorn or the sweets and was instead peering at a shelf full of tricks that were decidedly more wicked.

"Slytherin," Harry muttered, smiling to himself.

"What?" Al asked, fingers pulling the hair on the back on Harry's head.

Harry's mouth twitched. "Nothing."

He joined George and James behind the unicorn, and Draco and Scorpius sidled up a moment later. Scorpius made to pick a small black box up off a shelf and Draco swiftly reached in and grabbed his wrist, stilling his fingers before they could touch.

"Non," he said firmly, as Scorpius looked up at him in question, and the return of the French lilt made Harry shiver. "Regarder. Look for a moment."

Scorpius turned his head towards the box he'd been about to pick up, and then squealed as it opened a crack, revealing three bright yellow eyes and the tip of a spindly leg.

"Il bouge! Papa, it's moving!"

"It's not real," George mock whispered. "They're for scaring girls. They vanish when you try to squash them."

Despite the reassurance, Scorpius stayed hidden behind Draco's leg, watching the box with fearful eyes. James, on the other hand, looked delighted and was blowing on the box, trying to get it to open again.

"It won't hurt you," Draco murmured, stroking Scorpius's hair. "It's only-"

"It is – look, it's him! With Malfoy – from the paper!"

Draco faltered as he heard someone say his name, and turned to look over his shoulder, looking uneasy. Harry didn't turn around; he was going to carry on as he normally would and ignore everyone.

"Oh my god, you're famous too!" George mock-shrieked, throwing his hands in the air and making Draco jump a mile. "I'm so lucky to be blessed by your presence! Harry's so old-school famous, I needed to be seen with someone new and hip!"

"Stop being a twat," Harry said, and regretted it the moment the kids started giggling. "Don't you say that," he belated added to Al, praying that he wouldn't repeat the phrase when within earshot of Ginny. "You are a bad influence," he told George ruefully.

George puffed out his chest in pride. "I do what I do," he said, and then turned to James, clapping his hands together like he meant business. "You want to see something _really_ dangerous?"

Harry rolled his eyes, hitching Al up. He turned to see Draco already looking at him, eyebrows raised and clearly trying to evaluate George's sanity. "Welcome to the family," Harry shrugged, and Draco laughed.

"I think you're all insane," he remarked.

"And we think you're borderline sociopathic," George said cheerfully as he walked past, James glued to his side. "Well, not at the moment, but don't worry; when you're firing on all cylinders with nasty memories in intact, you're downright dangerous."

Draco looked from George to Harry, looking alarmed. "I'm not," he said quickly, and then turned uncertain. "I'm not, am I?"

"No," Harry said, shooting George's retreating back an exasperated look. "He's exaggerating."

"What, about me being dangerous, or being sociopathic?" Draco asked flatly.

"Both," Harry said dismissively. "Ignore him."

Draco didn't look completely appeased, and Harry felt an urge to get him to smile again, by whatever means necessary. "He knows you from way back, from school. When you were fifteen you probably were a bit…"

"Sociopathic?"

"You could say that," Harry said. "But you grew out of it. You _have_ grown out of it. You care too much about us lot to be considered sociopathic, even if you are a bit of a…"

"Twat?" Al mumbled, and Harry couldn't do anything but start to laugh. Draco began to laugh as well, and Al ad Scorpius just exchanged a meaningful glance that grown-ups could never hope to decipher.

"Come on," Harry grinned, jerking his head in the direction that James and George had vanished a few minutes previously. "Let's go find James before George gives him anything that explodes."

Draco looked at him for a moment, and in that moment Harry thought that Draco would lean over and kiss him right there in the middle of the shop. He blinked, and found that he had no problem with that whatsoever. It was his life; he could do what he bloody well wanted and if the rest of the world didn't like it-

The moment broke as Draco blushed slightly, just enough for Harry to notice, and turned away to speak to Scorpius. Harry let his eyes move over the curve of Draco's neck as he bent down, over his shoulder and the shift of muscle beneath the dark t-shirt he was wearing.

"Is it time for lunch yet?" Al whispered, breaking Harry's train of thought. He laughed softly and nudged Al's temple with his nose.

"Soon," he said. "Ready to get down yet?"

Al appeared to mull it over, and then shook his head. "No," he said, holding onto Harry that bit tighter. "Not yet."

Smiling, Harry indulged him, shifting him more securely onto his hip again and following Draco through the shop. It wasn't a hardship for him really; he liked having Al close and at least this way he wasn't worried about losing him amongst the crowds.

The day really was turning out to be a good one, Harry thought idly as he followed Draco, only half listening to Al's new rationale on why pygmy puffs made good pets. The kids obviously loved being out, and only a couple of people had shown them any attention. If their luck held out and they were left alone whilst having lunch, then Harry would definitely rate this day as a success. Maybe he could make it an 'O' of a success when they got home, if Draco was still looking at him in that blatantly obvious way...

Grinning guiltily, Harry banished the thought. One step at a time, he reasoned to himself as he reached the others. Lunch first, and then exploits at home if the opportunity presented itself. And if said opportunity had to be carefully engineered by distracting the kids with a film or some new toys, then that was just good time management and forwards planning, right?

"Why are you smiling?" Al asked suspiciously, sounding oddly like his mother. "What are you thinking about?"

Harry fought his face into something more neutral.

"Nothing."

* * *

><p>"…and there's dragon keeper pie on the specials and a very nice Grindylow curry, recipe given to me by a wizard from Thailand, it's a bit on the spicy side though and not for you if you don't like fish."<p>

Harry let Tom usher them into a booth in the Leaky Cauldron, listening to him chattering nineteen to the dozen about what food they had on the menu that day. He didn't mind; Tom was always genuinely pleased to see him, if not a tad over-eager to help, and Harry knew he wouldn't hesitate to throw anybody out that was giving them trouble. Not that they'd had any trouble so far; to his complete and utter surprise and delight, no-one had bothered them in Wheezes, and no-one had so much stepped in front of them as they walked the short distance from the joke shop to the Leaky Cauldron. Sure, lot of people had looked, some had stared, and quite a few had whispered to whoever they were with, but no-one had actually said so much as a word to them, which Harry was infinitely grateful for.

It was the best he could have possibly hoped for; because they'd been left alone he'd been able to relax more than he ever thought he'd be able to. He'd been able to laugh and joke with the kids, chat with Draco, and steal glances of him when Draco wasn't looking. All in all, it had been incredibly calm and peaceful – well, as calm and peaceful as it could be with three exuberant kids. It had been especially good to see Scorpius quite clearly having the time of his life; he was laughing and skipping about and talking non-stop to both Al and James, and was comfortable enough to even let go of Draco's hand for minutes at a time. He still came darting back frequently, but he was a far cry from the scared boy that Harry had picked up from the hospital.

"And we've got lots of special drinks in today," Tom said brightly as he watched Harry and Draco usher the kids into the booth, dragging their orange, W-stamped bags with them. "It's a bit peculiar sounding to some, but we're having a Muggle drinks festival – the Ministry gave me a grant to put it on, so we're sampling all these different types of ale and whiskey. Not a patch on firewhiskey or ice-gin, mind you, and I'd never chose anything over a good pint of Camelot Draught, but some of it's not half bad, and I'm being paid to have them here so everyone wins in the end-"

"Thanks Tom," Harry interrupted as politely as he could, finally getting around to sitting down, pushing Al and Scorpius up so there was room. "We'll give you a shout when we want to order, yeah?"

Tom beamed and saluted Harry before turning back to the bar. Harry breathed out a laugh, taking in Draco's bemused expression. "Don't worry. I always get a warm welcome here – James _no. _Not here. Wait until we get home."

James had been about to open one of the boxes that he'd bought from Wheezes, but stopped with his fingers on the lid. He looked disappointed but did as he was told, shoving the box to one side and instead picking up the never-stopping-slinky that George had slipped into his bag as they'd left the shop. Al and Scorpius had also been gifted with the toys, and were giggling madly as they made the slinkies move the length of the table and back again. Harry could still remember the look on Draco's face when George had pressed the toy into Scorpius's small hands, and vowed to call George later to thank him.

"Fancy a drink, then?" Draco said, reaching out to catch Scorpius's yellow and blue slinky as it squirmed off of the edge of the table, landing in his palm with a soft metallic clink. He put it back onto the table, flicking it towards Scorpius to get it moving again.

Harry hesitated. "Rather not whilst we've got the kids," he said cautiously, but Draco wasn't listening. Instead, he was staring at the bar with his mouth open, a small cleft between his eyebrows.

"Draco?"

"I know that…" Draco said slowly, and looked distractedly at James who was sitting next to him. "James, mind out-"

James obediently shifted and let Draco out of the booth, immediately slipping back in and catching his slinky just in time as it jumped off of the edge of the table. Harry watched as Draco slowly straightened up, still staring at something over by the bar.

Mystified, Harry turned to see what Draco was staring at. He saw nothing to catch his eye, just a couple of wizards looking at the display of Muggle drinks with clear interest on their faces. He frowned, looking again, and then his jaw dropped as he spotted a familiar black and white label among the bottles.

"I know that," Draco repeated, and walked towards the bar, glancing back at Scorpius before walking away. Harry held his breath in his chest as Draco walked over and leant forwards over the bar, mouth moving as he called to Tom. Tom turned to look at him, appearing delighted at the enquiry, nodding and then picking up the bottle with the number seven on the label. He twisted off the cap and went to pass the bottle to Draco-

There was a thud, a shout, and Harry looked up to see a group of men had entered the pub. There were three of them and they were all looking grim, and as his brain processed their appearance he realised that one was wearing a long trench-coat that was oddly and horribly familiar-

Harry's whole body seized up as he the horrible realisation dawned on him. He turned to bellow Draco's name, just as Draco lifted the bottle to his nose, turning to Harry with a questioning look on his face-

A blinding flash of white light tore through the room, along with a searing blast of heat which was followed by screams, and Harry remembered lunging across the table to grab James, reaching desperately for his children and his wand, and then nothing.

* * *

><p>Slowly, so slowly, Draco blinked. He could see dull brown wood in front of him, splintered and cracked. There was smoke and dust in his eyes and ears and mouth, and he was coughing, gasping in air that tasted like it was burning. He couldn't hear properly – sounds were echoing around him like he was underwater, indistinct and blurry around the edges.<p>

He needed to move. He didn't know what had happened but he knew he needed to move. Gasping, he tried to make his arms move, but he couldn't. With monumental effort he managed to turn his head to the side, his cheek scraping roughly against the floor.

Blinking hard, a body swam into vision next to him, stirring feebly and groaning. Trying his best to breathe, coughing and choking and suddenly aware of a violently sharp pain in his temple, Draco saw two women in bright robes huddled together on the floor, and then beyond them there was a dark-haired man sheltering behind an overturned table, clutching three young children to him. The youngest two were crying, panicked by what they saw around them, but Draco still couldn't hear a sound that they were making, only the same dull echoing whorls of sound from before.

Coughing weakly, Draco tried to push himself up, turning his face to the floor and choking as he breathed in a lungful of liquid; something had spilled and was pooling under his face, the smell sharp and harsh and earthy, overpowering and making his stomach churn. Another breath and another awful spluttering gasp of liquid, and as Draco stared at the man with the children, watching him hold them close, heads to his chest, he felt his mind stir…

The taste and smell of the liquid on his face lingered on his lips and invaded his nose, and he remembered.

He remembered sitting on the floor in a cream and green bedroom, leaning back against bed with a bottle in his hand, lifting it up to take a mouthful, wincing and shuddering. Another choked breath and another deep inhalation of that smell he knew, and he remembered licking his lips and tasting as someone hauled him out of a fountain, clothes dripping wet and sticking warm and uncomfortable to his skin.

Someone. The dark-haired man.

Harry.

Harry James Potter.

Draco felt something give in his mind, literally snapping and giving way, pushed aside by the smell of the Jack Daniels on the floor, the black and white label clinging to broken shards of glass near his shoulder. In one blinding, painful rush, he remembered Harry, he remembered Harry refusing to shake his hand, remembered Harry lying on the floor beneath him as he raised his foot, full of fury and rage, he remembered Scorpius's first birthday, his small fists covered in cake that would only make him sick an hour later, his mother standing tall and refusing to leave him alone with aunt Bellatrix, and Goyle laughing himself stupid at a joke he'd made, feeling fierce pride upon being sorted, lying in a hotel bed and feeling shame and fear work their way down his spine as someone walked towards him, the sharp pain of having his ears pierced, his father smiling at him weakly when they realised it was over, Voldemort standing up at the head of his family table, Scorpius laughing and laughing as Draco threw him up in the air, fire licking and snatching at his heels, silver cutlery on a green tablecloth, tying a tie in a mirror, laughing with Pansy, black bedsheets beneath his hands, glass goblets, an empty birdcage, a large chandelier, sitting down in Charms class, a window edged in white curtains looking out over green gardens, sweeping staircases, reading a potions textbook, rubbing the petal of a rose between his fingers, portraits that laughed, sparks of gold and red and green, arguing with Snape, Nimbus 2001, Scorpius, streetsigns, carriages, Harry-

He remembered everything.

And with one strangled gasp, suddenly he realised just how much fucking trouble they were in – he was bleeding from somewhere and the Leaky had almost been fucking destroyed, and Harry was there, _fuck_ – Harry was there with Al and James and Scorpius and he was holding onto them and trying to keep his head down and keep them safe because he didn't have his wand, and-

-and it was there, right there on the floor near Draco's foot. He would have recognised it anywhere. Harry's old, battered phoenix feather wand that Draco had always hated just because of who it belonged to.

Shutting his eyes, Draco took a deep breath and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. As he did, the world righted itself and his hearing came back with a roar that was almost deafening, the blur of noise sharpening into the screams of scared bystanders and the shouts of angry men, demanding something-

Demanding that Draco Malfoy hand himself over.

_Fuck._

Draco reacted without thinking. He flung his hand out with a gasped _"Accio!"_ and Harry's wand obeyed, shooting into his palm. His shaking fingers curled around it and his sheer terror that he was about to lose Scorpius and Harry and James and Al all in one fell swoop gave him the energy to point the wand in the right direction and cast.

"_Stupefy!"_

The spell hit the first wizard full in the face and he fell backwards with a crash. Draco didn't even pause, he just cast another stunner at another wizard that he could see and watched as they also slumped heavily to the ground. The man had barely hit the floor and Draco was up, scrambling across the floor towards Harry and the kids, ignoring the screaming pain in his body and the blood on his face and the fact he was covered in fucking Jack Daniels.

"Harry!" he grabbed hold of Harry's shoulder, twisting the material of his shirt in his hand. "Harry, are you alright?!"

Shocked and distracted by the boys in his arms, Harry looked up at him, chest heaving with breath. He didn't seem to be able to get a word out, but in Draco's opinion that wasn't good enough.

"Stop looking like a twat and answer me!" he shouted, terrified that he was hurt. "Harry!"

"I'm- I'm okay," Harry finally managed. "We're okay."

Scorpius peeled himself away from Harry, sobbing fit to burst, and went to fling himself on Draco, but Harry suddenly and roughly seized hold of him, crushing him to his chest. Draco froze because even as he was about to shout at Harry, he felt a wand-tip pressing against the back of his neck.

"Give it up," a hoarse voice said, and Draco felt fear course through him, his whole body seizing up in fright. "Give it up or I'll curse you all."

"No!" Draco said desperately, shutting his eyes and feeling warm tears course down his face, unable to let go of Harry even though he knew he had to move away, to take the danger away from Harry and the boys. "Not the kids," he managed to say, voice almost unrecognisable to his own ears. "I'll do anything – just, please."

"STUPEFY!"

For one wild moment, Draco thought he'd been stunned. Then, as the dead weight of his attacker crashed forwards onto him, he realised that someone else had done the stunning, and it wasn't him that was out cold. He shoved the man off of him, pushing and kicking him over onto his back, and then a hand grabbed him and he yelped and then realised it was Harry.

Before he could even blink Scorpius was on him, crying fit to burst and babbling incoherently in French, headbutting Draco painfully in the mouth but he didn't care. Another rough jolt and James was also there, clinging to Draco and looking paler than Draco had ever seen him. Through his tears, Draco looked up and saw Harry shuffling up to him, Al held close to his chest.

"Draco-"

"You fucking cunt," Draco spat, and Harry's eyes went wide. "You absolute idiot."

"Draco-" Harry whispered, the naked hope and shock clear on his face, looking so damn vulnerable and somehow strong at the same time.

"I told you not to get involved with me, and you didn't, bloody, listen!" Draco shouted, trying to hit Harry with the hand that wasn't holding Scorpius. "You have some sort of death-wish, as if everything you did before wasn't enough-"

One moment he was shouting himself hoarse and then next he was cut off by Harry's mouth on his, fingers digging painfully into Draco's chin. His breathing was so laboured it sounded like he was struggling to inhale properly, and he was shaking violently.

"You remember-" he choked against Draco's lips. "You-"

"Yes, I fucking remember," Draco replied, and kissed Harry hard again, wanting nothing more than to hold onto Harry and never let him go. Harry's hand slid around to hold the back of his neck, and Harry was kissing him frantically, like he couldn't stop. Draco didn't care. The past few days lingered in his mind like a hazy memory, like they'd been lived by someone else. He felt like himself again, his memories slotted back into place and realigning all of his emotions and thoughts to where they should be.

"This is not the time for snogging! Pack it in!"

They broke apart and Draco whipped around to see an Auror – Ellis – standing next to them and looking every pleased with himself. He had one foot casually resting on the chest of the stunned man who had tried to threaten Draco, and looked bizarrely like he'd scaled a mountain and was posing at the summit. Leaning back heavily against Harry and feeling a strong arm wind its way around his waist, Draco breathed out properly for the first time in what felt like _days_.

"You're okay," he murmured to Scorpius, pulling him up so he could see his face. "It's all over now."

"Promise?" Scorpius cried, and Draco kissed his forehead over and over.

"Yes," he whispered, and as his eyes flicked back to Ellis and the man on the floor, his whole body seized up in fright again.

"It's him," he stammered, looking properly at the man's face for the first time. "Harry, that's my boss."

The words were barely out of his mouth and then Ellis was moving, binding the man's hands and feet, kneeling down next to Draco and looking urgent.

"You know him?" he asked. "Malfoy?"

Draco nodded, moving his arms to hold James and Scorpius more securely, needing to protect them any way he could. "He – I worked for him," he said, and then bit back frustration as he found he couldn't say any more. "I can't say anything else," he told Ellis, rubbing at his forehead. "I literally can't. _Bollocks._"

Ellis just nodded, looking thrilled despite the fact that Draco couldn't tell him anything more. "Memories all back in the right place then?" he laughed, and then shook his head, laughing some more. "I could fucking kiss you, if he wouldn't kill me for it," he grinned, jerking his head towards Harry. "We've been after this wanker for months, and apparently you're important enough to come looking for."

Draco's eyes went wide. "Why?" he asked, but Ellis just shrugged evasively.

"Working on that bit," he said, and then more Aurors appeared, lifting the man with magic and taking him away. Ellis reached over to clap Harry on the shoulder and then he was gone as well, attempting to help with the work to put the Leaky Cauldron back into some semblance of order. For his part, Draco didn't want to help. He just wanted to sit on his arse with Harry and hold his kids to him and try and sort out his thoughts.

"Do you remember Dad?" a small voice whispered, and Draco turned his head towards Al, who had stopped crying and was now looking curious and hopeful. He had a pink scrape on his forehead but otherwise seemed no worse for wear.

"Yeah," Draco managed to say. "And you, and James, and everything."

"Do you remember going to the park?" Al asked, and Draco smiled tiredly.

"Yeah."

He felt Harry exhale heavily behind him, and then Harry's face was resting against his shoulder, his arm tightening around Draco's middle. "Remember that you're my boyfriend?" he asked, and laughed weakly when Draco tried to reach behind him to hit him.

"Yes, you idiot. Hence the kissing."

Harry pressed his mouth to Draco's shoulder. He looked shattered and there was a smear of dirt on his glasses, but despite that he looked about as ready to move as Draco was. "You kissed me even when you didn't remember," he muttered, and Draco's mouth fell open as he recalled.

"You – what were you thinking?" he demanded, feeling himself blushing furiously. "You let me – you let me _you know_, when I didn't remember you!"

Harry just smiled tiredly and shrugged. "Didn't care at the time," he said, and then looked about, watching people helping each other and clearing up the mess with a pained expression on his face. "God, I'm such an idiot," he suddenly said. Draco was tempted to agree, but let him talk. "I had no idea they'd – I thought that once they'd obliviated you then…"

He broke off and Draco realised that Harry was blaming himself for what had just happened, feeling guilty about taking Draco and the boys out when it hadn't been safe. He felt a fierce rush of annoyance and gratitude run through him, and shut Harry up by kissing him, hard.

"Enough of that bollocks," he said roughly, feeling his throat tightening and his eyes stinging. God, he'd been so close to losing all of them, just because of what _he'd_ done in the past. "Harry, take us home. Take us home right fucking now."

Harry nodded and pushed at Draco, giving himself space to stand up. He clambered awkwardly to his feet, still holding Al to him. James scrambled to his feet as well, and Draco noticed that he was bleeding from a scuff on his elbow. He went to get his wand to heal it, and then realised he didn't have it.

"Fuck. Harry – James's elbow," he said distractedly, trying to climb to his feet.

"Whoa, whoa, sit down!" a voice yelled, and Draco turned to see Ellis storming their way, looking stressed. "You are wounded, you moron. And I need to arrest you."

"Fuck off," Draco snapped, standing up and heaving Scorpius up. "I'm going home."

"Don't you dare," Ellis said. "This is serious-"

"We know," Harry interjected, pulling James close and trying to look at his elbow. "We're going home. You can meet us there later."

Ellis pointed his wand at them. "Harry, don't be a dick," he said, but stopped as Al started to cry again. "Look, I need to speak to you both-"

"Try and stop us," Harry said calmly. "I'll see you later."

Draco took the opportunity provided by Harry's interjection, clambering over the broken remnants of the table they'd been sitting at, heading towards the fireplace. He was shaking violently from head to foot and was full of adrenaline and fear and also a curious soaring sense of joy, probably because he could see the men who had attacked them being bound and hauled away.

It was over. Finally, it was over.

"Come on Scarhead," he called, and Harry followed him to the fireplace, looking exhausted. He stepped up to Draco, but before he could reach for the pot of floo-powder, he stopped Harry with a hand on his chest.

"I love you, you stupid, stupid man," he said, and Harry simply stared at him for a moment and then leant in to kiss him. Draco kissed him back, holding on tightly with his free hand and feeling the weight from his shoulders lift for the first time in years.

"Come on," Harry murmured against Draco's lips, and Draco felt like he could cry. "Home."

Draco nodded, fighting back tears as he nodded in agreement.

"Home."


	37. Chapter 37

_AN: This is the last chapter. Oh my days. I cannot form coherent sentences. I will miss this story and I will miss all of you. Thank you so much to everyone who has read and put up with my shoddy time keeping. Extra thanks to anyone who has ever taken the time to review - you guys and your enthusiasm are truly what keeps fandom going. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter About Bloody Time.<strong>

Harry had never before appreciated just how wonderful and amazing his sofa was. Honestly, he was never, _ever_ going to take it for granted again. He'd come close to fully appreciating it the night before, when he and Draco had had sex on said sofa, but even that paled in comparison to how ridiculously relieved and lucky he felt to be currently sitting on the worn fabric of its cushions.

Al was sitting on his knee, leaning sideways against him with his head on Harry's chest. He had calmed down remarkably quickly since the incident in the Leaky Cauldron and was now quiet, holding onto Harry's shirt with one hand and gently stroking the material with his other. Draco was at his side, leaning back against Harry with one of Harry's arms wrapped around his shoulders. James and Scorpius were both sitting together and leaning back against Draco, James with his back against Draco's hip and Scorpius leaning against his chest. They were all close enough to reach out and touch if Harry wanted, and he couldn't get over the overpowering sense of relief that filled him from head to toe.

It was over.

He had his family close, they were all in one piece, and Draco's boss had been arrested, which meant that it was over. Definitely, actually, unarguably over.

He didn't even feel his usual urge to get up and go and help sort things out; he just wanted to sit exactly where he was and not move for quite some time. He knew that at some point there would be questions, and he would undoubtedly owe a fair few people explanations, but that could wait for at least a few hours. The children were calm and safe, and Draco remembered him and was holding onto Harry's hand like he never wanted to let go, and that was enough.

Breathing out deeply, Harry tipped his head back against the sofa cushions, enjoying the feel of the warm sunlight on his face. He wondered if Ellis had managed to get any answers out of Draco's boss yet; he was very aware that there was still the question of why they'd come after Draco yet again. Harry didn't blame Draco for what had happened today, not at all, but he did need to know why they'd come back for him, and in such a risky way. Even though they were safe, in his eyes it would be _properly_ over when they had that last piece to the puzzle.

"I'm sorry for calling you the C word."

Harry laughed weakly at Draco's soft murmur, squeezing his fingers. "I'm going to consider it a term of endearment from now on," he replied. "I knew it had to be you, if you were throwing that around."

Draco squeezed his fingers in reply, and Harry glanced at him to see that he was watching James and Scorpius, his free hand brushing over Scorpius's head. "Thank you," he said suddenly, looking beautifully awkward in a way he hadn't since he'd been obliviated. "For…well, not giving – not sending me away when I didn't remember. Yeah."

It sounded like it hurt him to say it out loud, and Harry had never been so pleased to hear him struggle. "You're welcome," he replied softly. He wanted to open his mouth and tell Draco that he would never ever give up on him, would never feel right without him by his side, but he didn't. Those words could wait until later, when the shock of the day had passed and Draco was calm and open enough to accept them. It might take weeks for them to get there, but Harry didn't mind.

"Is Ellis really going to arrest me?" Draco asked a moment later, and as he asked Scorpius twisted around to look at him, looking worried.

"No," Harry said. "I won't let him."

Draco snorted tiredly. "Still playing the hero, I see."

Harry couldn't do anything but smile, shaking his head slightly. He was too happy to have Draco sounding like his normal self to call him on the attitude, and besides, he probably had a point. He could probably summon up quite a bit of heroic resilience if it meant keeping Draco out of trouble and by his side.

"Do you have to go anywhere?" Scorpius asked, his voice small. He reached up to touch Draco's cheek and Harry watched as Draco's eyes suddenly welled up, bright and overwhelmed.

"No," he whispered, turning his head to kiss Scorpius's fingers. "No, I'm staying here."

Scorpius just looked worried. "But what if that man comes back?"

Draco shook his head, and Harry saw the way his chin trembled ever so slightly, the way he had to swallow back a rush of emotion. "He won't," he whispered to Scorpius, voice breaking on the sounds. "Not this time."

"Hey," Harry interrupted gently, putting his hand on Draco's shoulder, fingers gently pressing into his neck. "Draco, look at me-"

"No, he's right to ask," Draco interjected, voice several octaves higher than it should be and eyes still shining bright with tears. "Why should he trust me this time? And this is so stupid because it's all my fault and if I had actually gone to get help somewhere instead of working for that cretin, because that cretin then decides to try and attack my fucking kids-"

"Draco!" Harry interjected, sounding alarmed, taking Draco's chin between his fingers and turning his face towards him. "Look at me. Calm down."

Miraculously, Draco did as he was told. He took a deep breath in and let it out between his teeth, steadying himself. Harry raised an eyebrow and Draco nodded in return, taking another deep calming breath. The boys were all watching Draco, looking concerned and worried.

Still holding onto him with a gentle grip, Harry kept his eyes on Draco's as he waited to see if Draco could stay calm. Draco just looked right back, taking steadying breaths and eventually nodding. After it became apparent that Draco could manage himself without having a nervous breakdown, Harry realised what Draco had just said and felt his lips twitch. "Kids?" he said. "Plural?"

Draco glared at him. "Shut up."

"All three of us," Al chipped in unexpectedly, and Draco just looked helplessly at Harry.

Harry fought to keep a straight face. "You heard him," he said simply. "All three of them."

James and Scorpius simultaneously looked up towards Draco, and Draco could only laugh shortly. "I suppose," he said, and James hid his grin in Draco's hip, twisting round and leaning on him. Harry felt no jealousy like he had done when his kids had bonded with Neville; he just felt relieved and thankful and like he could curl up and join them and sleep for a week. He couldn't keep his own smile hidden any longer; this was exactly what he'd always wanted, and maybe now everything would be simple enough for him just to be able to enjoy-

A sudden burst of noise behind him made him jump, his organs all clenching painfully in shock. He nearly dislodged Al from his lap with how quickly he moved, shoving his hand into his pocket and grabbing his wand, raising it in defence as he realised that the sound was the floo activating. He was ready to curse whoever came through, the word _'stupefy'_ on the tip of his tongue-

- and then Ron fell out of the fireplace, looking frantic.

"Harry! Christ, someone just ran in and said there was an attack in the Leaky-"

Harry's muscles all simultaneously relaxed with a visible slumping of his body, and his heart seemed to stutter as it went from his throat back to his chest where it belonged. He lowered his wand, wincing as he did. "We're alright, Ron," he said, shifting Al so he could stand up with him, sitting Al on his hip and keeping him close. "Don't worry."

"Are you bloody kidding me?" Ron said, walking over and looking gobsmacked. "It's like Ginny cast a reducto in there – what happened? They're still cleaning up, I only got through the floo because Ellis was there-"

"Ron, seriously," Harry said, shifting Al up and attempting to brush away Ron's concerns with a vague wave of his hand. "We're okay. Bruised and shocked but we're okay."

Ron rubbed his chin, not looking convinced. "Ellis said they were after…" he trailed off, but Harry didn't miss the way his eyes flicked to Draco, the suggestion obvious without him even having to say his name.

"We don't know," Harry said, even though he blatantly knew full well that they had been after Draco. "We've just got to sit tight and wait. Ellis'll probably be back in a bit to fill us in."

Ron nodded, and then appeared to hesitate for a moment. "George has called Ginny," he said, and Harry swore.

"Shit."

"She needs to know, mate-"

"I know," Harry sighed, knowing Ron was right but still not liking it. "It honestly sounds worse than it is – she'll be doing her nut if she knows James and Al were with us. How the hell am I meant to explain this?"

"Try using words," Draco chipped in, sounding tired and prickly. Knowing him, he was pissed because Ron had turned up in the middle of what had turned out to be quite a serious and meaningful moment. "One at a time normally works best."

Harry turned to him, frowning. "You know full well what I mean," he said, and Draco had the good grace to look suitably abashed. "Is she on the way? Ron?"

Ron wasn't listening to a word Harry said. What he was doing instead was staring at Draco, looking unsure and a little confused. His mouth was slightly open and there was a deep crease across his forehead. Harry was about to poke him, but then he blinked and spoke.

"Ferret?"

Draco's head snapped up. "Fuck off, Weasleby."

"Papa!" Scorpius admonished, and Ron looked at Harry, more flabbergasted than ever.

"When did that happen?"

"I am here, you know," Draco snapped. "And yes, I remember everything. I remember the last year, and the last ten years, and I do remember you being a-"

"Whoa, whoa," Harry protested. "Can we please just celebrate not being in danger for ten minutes before we start arguing again?"

Ron still looked astounded. "When did that happen?" he repeated faintly, this time addressing Draco. "How did that happen? I thought you only remembered a few things-"

"Jack Daniels," Draco snorted, sitting up properly and wincing as Scorpius clambered onto him. "The smell is quite potent."

"Jack Daniels," Ron repeated. "That's a Muggle drink."

"Ten points to the Gryffindor," Draco said, trying to shift Scorpius around so he could see Ron. James slipped off the sofa and sidled up to Harry, leaning on his side. "A bottle of it smashed and went all over me. I remembered the smell and everything just came back."

"In one go?" Ron asked.

Draco nodded, and clicked his fingers. "Faster than a Lumos."

"Talk about timing," Ron said fervently, and Harry started to laugh, helplessly and unstoppably. The sound was infectious; Ron started to laugh as well and even Draco had to hide a grin in Scorpius's shoulder.

"Your life is ridiculous," Ron said matter-of-factly, leaning forwards and resting his hands on his knees, red in the face from laughing so hard. "No wonder Ginny has you by the balls most of the time, if this is the stuff you get up to on an average day."

"Excuse me," Draco snapped, standing up and swinging Scorpius up with him. "I think I'm the only one with any claim to Potter's balls, thank you."

Harry spluttered, feeling his face going red. "Can we refrain from having this discussion in front of the kids?" he said pointedly, but Ron was once again laughing too hard to listen.

"God, I never thought I'd miss you being you, Ferret."

"I said it once and I'll say it again, f-mmph-"

Harry started laughing again as he turned to see Scorpius had pressed his fingers to Draco's mouth. "No bad words," he said sternly, then squealed when Draco pretended to bite his fingers.

Ron sobered up, standing up straight and reaching out to put his hands on James's shoulders, pulling him close for an impromptu hug, holding James to his side. "Right. You're obviously okay here – what needs doing?"

Harry looked to Draco, who just shrugged marginally. "Don't know," he said. "Like I said, Ellis will be around at some point to talk to us. Other than that, there's nothing really to do."

Ron narrowed his eyes at Harry. "That doesn't sound like you."

Harry shrugged. "I'm needed here."

Ron looked suitably impressed. "Took you long enough to get those priorities sorted out."

Harry shot him a glare. "And you can p-"

A loud hammering noise cut him off; all three men simultaneously whipped around at the sound, Harry instinctively reaching out a hand towards Draco. Draco stepped towards him too, not even seeming to notice he'd done it.

"Front door," Harry said, body tense as he listened. Someone was banging on his front door, the sound impatient and angry.

"Don't go," Draco immediately said, his fingers curling around Harry's belt as if he could hold him in place. "Harry."

"I need to see who it is," Harry replied evenly, but Draco shook his head violently.

"No," he said, his expression panicked and quickly heading towards distraught. "Harry,_ please._"

It was the desperate use of the word please rather than the distressed expression and the gripping fingers that caused Harry to pause. Draco was now staring at him with an expression that clearly said _'yes I know I never say please so take me seriously.' _It was bizarre to see that expression back on Draco's face; he'd been oddly neutral without his memories, so to see him suddenly full of expression and life was a little disconcerting. Despite the obvious return to the worry, insecurity and awkwardness, Harry wasn't foolish enough to wish Draco's memories away again; he'd take this over an easy time any day.

"I'll go," Ron said, possibly sensing the battle of wills that was going on and clapping Harry on the shoulder in reassurance. "Stay put."

Ron left the room, and Harry heard him shout impatiently down at whoever it was banging on the door. Feeling uneasy, he let go of Draco to fish his wand out of his pocket, refusing to take any chances. Listening intently, he distantly heard Ron calling through the door, and then the banging stopped.

"Ron?" Harry shouted experimentally, and Draco gave a short sharp pull on his belt, like a reprimand. Harry elbowed him in return and Draco kicked the side of his foot.

"Shut up," he hissed as Harry went to kick him back. "I'm listening."

"So am I-"

"Shut _up_."

Harry was about to elbow Draco again, but Draco's ribs were saved from certain bruising by Ron's voice, calling up the stairs and sounding baffled.

"Harry! It's Adam Campbell."

Harry and Draco exchanged a mystified glance. "What is he doing here?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Who even is he?" Draco countered, looking worried.

"He's from work," Harry said distractedly, swinging Al down to the floor. "Al, wait with Draco a moment-"

"No," Draco said automatically. "Harry, no."

Harry shook his head. "He's alright-"

"No," Draco said vehemently, and even despite the argument Harry couldn't fail to appreciate the wonderful stubbornness that made Draco so _Draco_. "What if he's the one…?"

"He's not an Auror," Harry reasoned. "He works with me." Draco didn't look convinced, but Harry couldn't blame him for the apprehension. "Look, I'll take his wand before I let him in, yeah?"

Draco stared at him for a moment and then jerked his head in reluctant acquiescence, turning away from Harry and tossing Scorpius onto the sofa with a squeal and in a tangle of limbs. Harry watched as Draco slumped down next to him, reaching for the television remote and refusing to look back at Harry.

Sighing, Harry smiled briefly at James and Al. "Back in a moment," he said. "Stay with Draco."

The boys obediently nodded. Al climbed up next to Scorpius and Draco and James climbed into the armchair that Draco used to prefer to sit in. Harry watched for a moment to check they were all okay, and when he was satisfied that they were, he turned and quickly went down the stairs to join Ron.

"Just hang on," Ron was saying through the letterbox, sounding exasperated. He was crouched by the door with his wand in hand, and Harry could see fingers sticking through the letterbox, presumably belonging to Adam.

"It's my job," Adam was saying, very close to begging. "Please, I need to come in and check he's alright because the alarm went off."

"I've told you he's okay," Ron replied loudly, noticing Harry walking down the stairs and rolling his eyes. He raised his hand and twirled his finger around his temple. _"Complete quaffle-brain,"_ he mouthed at Harry, and Harry bit back a grin.

"But it's my job," Adam repeated, and Harry heard another bang on the door. "Harry?! Harry, are you there? This man won't let me in and I need to check on you! HARRY? HARRY!"

"Jesus," Harry called as he reached Ron. "Adam, stop shouting. You'll scare the neighbours."

"Harry?!" Adam continued to shout, though his tone was now tempered with relief. "Oh, thank god, are you okay?"

"Step back a bit," Harry instructed, not answering Adam's question. "Why are you here?"

"I'm checking on you!" Adam shouted back.

"Why?" Harry called suspiciously.

"Let me in and I'll explain!"

Harry exchanged a glance with Ron, who shrugged, looking mystified. "I don't get why he's here," he admitted. "He's not an Auror, is he?"

Harry mulled it over for a moment. He could still see Adam's fingers poking through the letterbox, and wondered why he was so eager – almost desperate – to gain admittance to Harry's house. It could be something to be suspicious of…or it could be that Adam had indeed been sent to check on Harry after the debacle in the Leaky. The attitude could simply be put down to Adam being his usual sycophantic self.

"I'll open the door, and you chuck your wand in," Harry finally said.

"Yes, of course," Adam replied, sounding even more relieved. "Hang on –I'll post it to you. Wait a moment."

Harry vowed never to complain about Adam's desire to please him ever again. He watched as the fingers withdrew and almost immediately the letterbox clanked open and shut again, Adam's wand slipping through and landing on the doormat.

"Did you get it?" Adam's hopeful voice called through the letterbox "Harry?"

Ron rolled his eyes again and picked up the wand, tossing it to Harry who caught it in one hand. "Yep," Harry called back, turning the wand over in his hand. "Hang on."

"Okay, sure." Adam replied. Harry ignored him and instead tapped Adam's wand with his own, muttering _Priori Incantatem_ under his breath. The spells that revealed themselves were innocuous to say the least; sorting and filing charms, an ink replenishing charm, a memo-folding charm, a summoning charm and one shoddily done shoelace tying charm. It was clear that this wand had done nothing but paperwork for most of the day, though Harry did note that it didn't seem to have done anything at all for a few hours.

Ron clambered to his feet, brushing his jeans down and frowning. "Anything suspicious?" he asked.

Shaking his head, Harry hesitated. "No," he said, voice low. "But I'm not taking any chances. Draco'll kill me if I let him in and he's had anything to do with this."

Ron bit his lip, looking unconvinced. Harry could tell that he didn't think Adam was dangerous, but he wasn't going to risk anything happening to Draco or the boys. It just wasn't worth it – nothing was worth the possibility of them being hurt or injured any more than they already had been-

"Do you want me to get some Veritaserum?" Adam called hopefully through the letterbox. "I will if you want me to."

Harry lowered his wand, feeling ridiculous all of a sudden. This was Adam bloody Campbell after all, and he had Ron right next to him as backup should anything go awry. "No, Adam," he said wearily. "I'll let you in, but you're not having your wand back."

"Thanks Harry! Oh thank you, that's great," Adam babbled, and Harry grimaced as he stepped forwards, pressing his palm to the door to unlock it. Adam tripped through the doorway the moment it was open enough for him to squeeze in, wide eyed and looking awed. Harry noticed that Ron stepped sideways so his body was blocking the stairs, and he silently thanked him for the support.

"Oh wow, this is great," Adam said, eyes scanning the photographs on the wall as Harry locked the door behind him. "Your house is brilliant. Are these your friends? Wow, look how young you look in-"

"Adam, why are you here?" Harry asked flatly, and Adam stopped babbling and blushed.

"Well, I suppose I can tell you now," he said, and Harry's suspicion immediately went up another notch. "I got promoted," Adam said excitedly. "Just after you got suspended."

Harry stared at him. "That doesn't explain why you're at my door."

Adam nodded like Harry had just explained the meaning of life to him. "Well, you got suspended because you were involved with Draco Malfoy, who was involved with Hightops, but you know that," he said in a rush. "And Roberts and the Aurors thought that the best way to get a break on Hightops was to keep an eye on Draco Malfoy, because they knew one of the members was interested in him for some reason. But they didn't want anyone to get hurt, so they asked me to keep an eye on you. I was happy to do it."

Harry's mouth fell open, shock and indignation wrestling for supremacy. He turned to look at Ron, who was also looking mildly outraged on Harry's behalf. He was about to say something bitter and sarcastic to Ron when a worrying thought occurred to him, keeping his focus on Adam for a moment longer. "Have you been following me?"

Adam shook his head, looking at Harry earnestly. "No, I just keep an eye on your house. I've been living in your garden for ages. I only go back to the office to file a report every day, or when something else needs doing. You thought I was still obliviating, didn't you?"

The words slowly penetrated Harry's consciousness. "You've been living in my garden?"

"Yes," Adam said brightly. "I'm an Animagus," he told Harry proudly. "I can turn into a frog."

Harry had to sit down. Ron hastily moved out of the way as he stepped backwards and sank down onto the bottom step of the stairs, and then he started to laugh. He laughed so hard that his sides started to hurt and Adam started to look worried. "They sent you to live in my fucking garden," he choked, barely able to breathe. "Oh my god, we nearly squashed you."

"I didn't mind," Adam said quickly.

"You're a frog?" Ron asked, looking more bewildered than ever.

"Fuckers," Harry managed to say, still laughing. "You fucking knew they'd come after him. You bloody knew, you used him as bait anyway. I am going to _kill_ Ellis."

"Jesus," Ron exclaimed, rubbing his forehead. "All this shit for a break on that bloody crime ring? Christ, this is people's lives being arsed about with, you know."

Adam bit his lip, still looking at Harry. "Ellis didn't like it," he said, and it looked like he was very reluctant to say anything positive about Ellis. "Roberts and Kingsley threatened to sack him if he didn't lie to you. He's technically suspended as well at the moment."

The last of Harry's laughter faded, and he pushed his glasses up to wipe his eyes, frowning up at Adam. "Why?"

"I'm not sure," Adam admitted. "He did something he shouldn't have done, though."

"Why does that not surprise me," Harry muttered, rubbing his face and wincing as he caught a newly blossoming bruise on his cheek. "Well-"

He was about to ask Adam if he minded going and tracking down Ellis and Roberts for him, but noise from upstairs distracted him. He heard grown up-voices and the dashing of feet across the floor above his head, and as the voices continued to talk he realised that George must have reappeared with Ginny in tow. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but he could easily tell that she was angry, even as far away as she was.

"Well, it's been nice knowing you," Ron said gravely, and Harry shot him a dirty look.

"Stay here," he said. "I'll go and talk to her."

"Not a chance," Ron said with a snort. "You need all the backup you can get."

"I can't leave either," Adam added hurriedly. "Roberts says that if the alarm ever goes off I have to wait with you and stop you leaving until he gets here."

Harry stood up, suddenly feeling too knackered to argue the point. "Whatever," he said. "I'm going to go sort this out."

Using the bannister to help haul his aching body back up the stairs, Harry slowly made his way towards the voices which were steadily growing louder and more agitated. He could hear Ginny snapping at someone, James's urgent voice, George's impatient tone, Al's high-pitched whine and also Draco sounding loud and belligerent. None of them were tones of voice that he was particularly fond of, and a combination of them was unwelcome and possibly downright dangerous.

His ears caught the word 'fuck' come from someone and he hastened to get back up to the lounge to try and diffuse the situation. Knowing him he'd make it worse, but hell, he could only try. Footsteps behind him told him that Ron and Adam were both following him, and he spared a small piece of exasperated energy to wish that Adam would fuck off and get out of his house.

Things had definitely escalated in the thirty seconds it took him to reach the lounge. Ginny was holding Al and James to her, looking somewhere between furious and panicked. It was mostly furious, although Harry knew that anger was her go-to emotion when she was feeling shaken.

"-can't believe they would do this to you," she was saying angrily, her eyes on Draco. Harry was about to leap to Draco's defence but then he clocked that Ginny wasn't actually shouting at Draco, but was actually ranting about what the attackers had done. "And with the kids there as well, _what were you thinking?!_"

Harry jumped a mile as her voice cracked like a whip, this time directed at him. "Me?" he asked, feeling slightly wrong-footed. "I didn't do anything-"

"Mum, please," James said, pulling on her jumper.

"You were meant to be looking after them!" Ginny yelled. George was trying to get her to calm down, and even Ron was weighing in with an objection, but all it served to do was raise the volume and make everyone that bit more riled.

"You leave him alone," Draco snapped at Ginny, and Ginny raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

"I'm saying he should be looking after you!"

Draco bristled. "I don't need looking after!"

Ron snorted at that and unfortunately, Draco heard him. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"If everyone could calm down-"

It was Adam's voice that rose bravely above the tumult, but he shrank back immediately as everyone rounded on him.

"Who are you?" George asked brusquely.

"I work with Harry," Adam said, looking warily from Ginny to George.

"Why are you here?" Draco demanded, one hand on Scorpius's shoulder and holding him close. Scorpius was leaning against Draco's hip, his fingers wedged in his mouth and his eyes wide.

"He's been living in the garden," Harry said, and everyone suddenly stopped shouting, looking at Harry with confused expressions.

"_What?_"

"He's been where?"

"What? _Why?!_"

"I-" Adam began, and looked beseechingly at Harry.

Harry was about to defend Adam's presence, he really honestly was, but before he could there was the noise of the fire bursting into flames in the grate again. Harry and Draco both simultaneously swore, and Ron, Ginny and George all drew their wands, pointing them straight at the grate. Adam flapped about for his, but then remembered that Harry had it so simply stood there awkwardly, twisting his fingers together.

"Lock it," Draco said urgently.

"Can't," Harry replied. "Not whilst it's lit."

The room collectively held its breath as the green flames crackled, then surged, and then with a twist Ellis appeared, clambering out of the grate and swearing mutinously. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Draco clamp his hands over Scorpius's ears; an occasional slip up was excusable but the filth that was currently coming out of Ellis's mouth was enough to make anyone wince.

"-you complete fucks left and left me in a world of shit with Roberts and Shaw, what part of _under arrest_ do you cunts not fucking-"

Ellis straightened up and abruptly stopped ranting as he saw that the room was full of people, and most of those people were pointing wands at him. He had a sheaf of notes clutched in one hand and in his wand in the other, and was the very picture of an over-worked Auror trying to get to the bottom of a catastrophic mess. Harry found he didn't really care how much paperwork there was to sort out; his part in this whole affair was over, and that was that.

Ellis shot Harry an exasperated look and then held his hands up. "What is this? Too late for vigilante justice, we caught the guy, remember?"

"Why are you here?" Ginny asked tightly. "This is for family, not for you."

"Actually, these guys are part of a criminal investigation," Ellis retorted. "So _family _needs to back off and let us sort this out."

Ginny bristled, suddenly reminding Harry forcibly of Molly Weasley. "We're not going anywhere," she said heatedly.

"Ginny, take everyone downstairs," Harry said, his voice clear and firm. He knew why she wanted to stay and he honestly felt the same way, but it was also important that he and Draco speak to Ellis and get the last few problems sorted. He was also itching to give Ellis a good shaking and didn't want to lose his cool in front of the boys. "Draco, you stay here. The sooner we get this sorted, the sooner we can work out who we should be yelling at."

"But-"

"Come on," George said, putting a hand on Ginny's shoulder and steering her from the room. "You heard the Chosen One – let's go. Ron, get smaller blond one."

"I want to stay with Papa," Scorpius said, sounding uncertain and looking up at Draco with wide, vulnerable eyes.

"Come on," Ron said easily, holding his hand out, and then dropping his voice to a mock whisper. "He looks like he needs tea. Shall we go make him some?"

Scorpius smiled at that and nodded. Draco let go of his shoulders and allowed Ron to take Scorpius's hand, following Ginny, George and the boys out of the room. Draco watched him go, looking very much like he wanted to run across the room and snatch him back. To his credit he didn't; he simply clenched his jaw, folded his arms tightly across his chest and turned to Harry and Ellis. Adam was still there but Harry didn't have it in him to insist that he leave; knowing Adam he'd leave the room and then spend the next twenty minutes nosing around Harry's house instead of returning to the Ministry.

"Christ," Ellis muttered. "Are they always like that?"

"Ellis," Harry snapped, losing his patience very quickly, his voice rising in volume. "Cut the crap and tell me what's going on. Tell me why you've been lying to me for the past god-knows how long, tell me how long you've been in Roberts's pocket for, and tell me why this wanker has been living in my bloody garden!"

"I have not been lying to you!" Ellis shouted back, and then paused. "Not intentionally anyway – Roberts and Kingsley were lying to _me_, and by the time I found out about all that bullshit they threatened to sack me!"

"So what?" Harry bellowed back, suddenly so angry that he would happily tear Ellis limb from limb for what they'd been through. Somewhere in the back of his mind he dimly registered that he should probably stop shouting, considering the kids were still in the house. "This is my life you've been pissing around with, playing us like damned chess pieces!"

Ellis huffed out a breath. "You need to trust me," he said.

Harry snorted. "Why should I?"

Ellis winced at that and then nodded. "Fine," he said, sounding somewhere between resigned and put-out. "We'll do it your way."

He shoved his wand in his trouser pocket and then slipped his fingers into the breast pocket of his jacket, pulling out a vial with a cork seal in the top. Harry recognised it instantly, having been made to drink one himself not all that long ago.

"What?" Draco asked warily. "What is it?"

"Veritaserum," Harry said, and nodded his head at Ellis in agreement. Ellis pulled the seal out with his teeth, spat it out and then necked the potion in one.

"What happened the night we went out for my birthday last year?" Harry instantly asked. Ellis's mouth fell open and he looked from Harry to Adam, colour rising in his cheeks.

"I kissed Valerie," he admitted, sounding like it was causing him pain to say it. "Repeatedly. And then promised her that I would take her to dinner when I had time if she kept her fat mouth shut. Potter, you're an arse."

Adam looked astounded. "You kissed Valerie?"

"Shut up before I punch you in the mouth," Ellis snapped at him. "None of your god-damn business. Right, Potter, you've proven your point. Can we get down to it?"

"Why did you lie to me?" Harry asked immediately.

Ellis made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. "Because I thought it was the truth. Yes, I lied, but I didn't_ know_ I was lying," he said. "I was working my bloody arse off to try and crack this case, only to find out that I'm actually on team 'feed bullshit to Potter and hope he doesn't notice.' The only way they could think to get at anyone was to use Malfoy as bait, and the only way they could use him as bait was if _you_ felt he was safe enough to go outside. I honestly thought from what you'd told me he'd be safe, because _they_ weren't giving me all the information!"

His voice was growing steadily louder and more frustrated, and Harry couldn't blame him. All of his anger at Ellis was vanishing with the knowledge that Ellis had also been taken for a ride, supposedly for the greater good. More and more things were making sense with every word out of Ellis's mouth, and Harry was desperate to hear the rest of it.

"And I only found out about this silly twat being paid to watch your house a few days ago, and then I threatened to tell you so they suspended me!"

"Hey!"

They both ignored Adam's hurt interjection.

"But why were they after me?" Draco jumped in before Ellis could start ranting again. "I don't give a shit about all this useless information about you - why they were after me?!"

"I was getting to you! You, you silly twat," Ellis stormed, marching over to Draco and hitting him with his rolled up sheaf of notes. He shoved the notes under his arm and before Harry or Draco could protest he grabbed him in a headlock, pointing his wand at his face. Harry leapt to his feet, ready to intervene, but the struggle was a short one; Draco shoved Ellis away with a curse, straightening up and glaring back at him.

"You fucking maniac-"

"Have been walking around with half a million galleons worth of diamonds in your ears!" Ellis shouted over him, brandishing his sheaf of notes again.

Draco's mouth fell open and he clapped his hands to his ears in shock. Harry gaped at Ellis, who held his other hand up with Draco's earrings held in his fingers.

"Half a million galleons?" Harry said weakly.

"In my ears? The whole time?" Draco asked, looking just as flabbergasted as Harry felt.

"Hiding them in plain sight," Ellis said, looking at the gems with satisfaction. "Seemed your boss wanted a cut of the profits, and the easiest way to do that was claim the gems never got stolen, and then hide them with you. He blamed it on the wandwork guys who actually did the heist, saying he never received any gems. And he never told anyone what he'd done. The rest of the ring thought he just wanted Malfoy for…well, actually, I don't know. But they didn't know it was something that important. He wasn't banking on Potter jumping in to rescue you, and obviously got a tad desperate when he realised his favourite rentboy had jumped ship into the pocket of the fucking Chosen One. That bit I did get right – you're only alive because they didn't dare snatch you back from under Potter's nose."

"Half a million galleons," Harry said again, rubbing his brow. Christ, he needed a drink.

"Yes, for the pair," Ellis said impatiently. "Two of the centrepiece diamonds from the Lady Morgana tiara that went walkabouts. We recovered the cursed ruby from the piece, thank fuck, but these had eluded us."

Draco slowly lowered his hands, looking horrified. "That's how they were following me! When they grabbed me-"

"No, actually," Ellis said brightly. "You couldn't put a tracking charm on these, they're too imbibed with magic, it wouldn't work properly."

"Then how the fuck did they find me?" Draco asked, agitated. He raised a hand to his ear again, pulling distractedly at the lobe.

"I have my suspicions," Ellis said, looking about as if he'd lost something. "Where's the littler blond one gone?"

"Scorpius?" Draco said blankly, and then comprehension dawned on his face. He went pale and took a step backwards, gaping uselessly at Ellis. "Scorpius," he repeated faintly. "Oh my fuck."

Harry's brain caught up a moment later and he felt his jaw fall open. "They were tracking _Scorpius_?"

"I think," Ellis said, raising his wand again. "Where is he?"

"Don't you dare," Draco said, hand automatically going for his wand before he remembered he didn't have it. He swore and then marched over to Ellis, making a grab for his wand.

"Oi! Get off!" Ellis insisted, holding his wand above his head and out of Draco's reach. "I'm only going to check-"

"You point a wand anywhere near my son and I'm going to knee you in the balls," Draco snarled, still trying to snatch Ellis's wand.

"I won't hurt him!"

"You can get fucked-"

"Alright, alright," Harry interrupted, stepping forwards and inserting himself between the pair, one hand on Draco's chest to keep him back. He was glaring at Ellis and Harry felt a fierce rush of love for him, again feeling incredibly glad that Draco was back to his old self.

"How about I check?" he reasoned. "Or you have my wand and check?"

"He's not allowed a wand yet," Ellis chipped in.

"Shut up," Harry said, exasperated. "I-"

They were interrupted by the sound of voices on the stairs. They all looked around just in time to see Ron and Scorpius walk back into the room. Scorpius was talking to Ron, voice calm and earnest, and Ron had a mug of tea – presumably that Scorpius had made for Draco – in his hand.

"Are you lot still yelling at each other?" Ron asked, looking put-out. "Come on, I thought we were meant to be relieved that this is all over?

Draco chose his moment to dive under Harry's outstretched arm, running around the sofa and snatching Scorpius up, holding him protectively.

"Ouch," Scorpius protested, trying to wriggle free. "Papa, put me down-"

"Oh for fucks sake, calm down," Ellis said, throwing his hands up in the air. "I need to check! It's my job!"

"Don't you dare," Draco said fiercely, turning his back to Ellis and putting himself between Scorpius and the wand. "You don't need to-"

"Draco," Harry said, his voice calm. "You know he's right. We need to check."

Draco bit his lip, looking between Harry and Ellis and frowning. "Fine," he bit out. "Harry, you do it."

Harry nodded at Ellis, relieved. Ellis merely rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest. "Trust you to pick such a bloody drama queen," he muttered. Draco shot him a dirty look but thankfully remained quiet. Behind him, Ron stifled a laugh into his palm, and Harry shot him a warning look; now was not the time to be winding Draco up.

"I could do it," Adam offered from just behind Ron, but quickly shut his mouth with the vitriolic look that Draco sent his way.

"Alright," Harry said, drawing his own wand. "One, two, three-"

He barely heard Draco's protest that he wait. A soft green light shot form his wand and enveloped Scorpius, dissipating almost instantly. Scorpius cried out and tried to bat the light away and then stopped, looking baffled.

"Papa! I am green!"

Draco slumped down onto the sofa, taking hold of Scorpius's hand and examining his fingers. "Oh my god," he managed to say. "Oh my god."

"It wouldn't have hurt him," Elllis said unexpectedly. "Not a tracking charm like that."

"I don't think that's exactly the point," Draco said, and his voice was getting steadily higher once again, a clear precursor to a full blown hissy fit. "Take it off. Take the charm off. Take it off right now."

"Okay, okay," Harry interjected hastily. "Calm down. Ellis, how do I take it off?"

Ellis pulled a face, obviously still put out by the fact Draco wouldn't let him do it. "Levo perseqo," he said. "Should do the trick."

"It won't hurt him, will it?" Draco asked worriedly, and Ellis stared at him.

"You know, you come across as a completely different person when you're taking about him," he said, and Draco just glared at him.

"No kid, no opinion," Draco said bluntly, and Ellis just rolled his eyes.

"It won't hurt him," he said, and Draco nodded, appearing appeased.

Harry stepped up to them, lifting his wand and quickly whispering '_Levo perseqo._' Scorpius started in surprise as the green tinge to his fingers went yellow, and then vanished completely.

"There," Ellis said. "No more stolen diamonds, no more tracking charms, no more criminals. It's over."

The words hung in the air, heavy yet strangely liberating. Harry and Draco looked at each other, hardly daring to believe that it was finally _done._

"You're sure this time?" Draco asked, reaching up with one hand to pull at his bare earlobes again.

Ellis grinned. "If I'm not, you can sue me."

"If you're not, I'll kill you," Draco threatened, and Ellis laughed.

"Stay here until you get official confirmation from Kingsley," he advised him. "No going out, no nipping to the shop, nothing. Just until we get more names from your boss."

"You think you can?" Harry asked, and Ellis's face cracked into a wide grin.

"Oh most definitely," he said. "It's either we accidently let the Prophet know who he is and what he did with the diamonds, which _anyone_ _in particular _could read, or he tells us what we want and we can protect him from the anyone in particular."

"Protect him?" Draco repeated, voice like ice.

"As far as he thinks," Ellis replied significantly, and Draco grinned back at him, expression more devious than Harry'd seen in a long time.

Harry laughed shortly. "I do hope you two never actually decide to become friends," he said matter-of-factly. "Now can you please clear off? I've got kids to console, an ex-wife to appease and-"

"a boyfriend to do unspeakable things to, I get the point," Ellis finished for him. Ron blanched, Adam looked vaguely wistful and Draco flushed a startling and obvious pink.

"Go away," Harry groaned, throwing Adam's wand over to Ellis to take. "Take Adam with you and tell Roberts if he puts anyone else in my garden I will let Teddy squash them."

"Duly noted," Ellis said, and marched over and grabbed Adam before he could say anything. "Come along old chap. Out."

He bundled Adam away before he could say another word, leaving the room and presumably heading for the front door. Harry could hear Adam trying to get a word in edgeways all the way down the stairs, with Ellis talking over him loudly and obnoxiously.

"My earrings," Draco said in disbelief as the noise faded, and Harry turned back to him. "Those bloody earrings."

"You look odd without them now," Ron commented, and then grinned at Harry. "You'll have to buy him some new ones."

"I'm crap at picking jewellery. Ginny'll testify to that," Harry sighed, reaching up to take his glasses off and rubbing at the corners of his eyes. "I'm not sure how much information I can take in one go."

Ron took pity on him. "I'll take Ginny and George out of the way," he offered. "Now she knows the kids are okay, she'll be fine. If I tell her…"

"I'll call her later," Harry finished with a small smile, putting his glasses back on. "Thanks, Ron."

"Not a problem," he replied, ruffling Scorpius's hair before departing the room, clattering down the stairs to find the others.

Breathing out, Harry looked at Draco, who was still pulling absently at his ears. Draco noticed him watching and his mouth flickered in a weak smile. "Go find Al," he murmured to Scorpius, setting him down on the floor and then turning to Harry as Scorpius sped off.

Harry didn't need to say anything. He just walked slowly over to Draco and slid his hands onto his waist, pressing his body flush against Draco's. He breathed out again as Draco slipped his arms around his neck, resting his cheek against Harry's.

"So," Draco said, and Harry laughed softly, running his hands up Draco's back to his shoulder blades. "This was a monumental fuck up of a day."

Harry hummed, a non-committal sound in the back of his throat. "Yeah. But violence and bloodshed aside…does it make me a horrible person for being glad that it happened because now you're back and it's all over?"

It was Draco's turn to hum. "Probably," he said. "But I don't care. I'm glad it's over, I was just so bloody-"

"I know," Harry said gently, and then swallowed. "I could kill him for what he did to you, you know."

Draco nuzzled at Harry's face, kissing him gently next to his ear. "You're too noble."

"Probably," Harry sighed. "Come on. Sofa."

"No," Draco whispered, his arms tightening around Harrys neck. "Not yet. Just stand there."

Harry obliged him, staying where he was and gently kissing the side of his face. It felt so good to have Draco here in his arms, back to his usual self and remembering everything and still wanting to be with Harry. He was warm and solid and real and Harry had never been so glad to have him close.

"I do love you," he suddenly murmured, and Draco's arms tightened around him in response.

"I figured," Draco replied. "You'd have to be a lunatic to put up with me if you didn't."

Harry laughed as Draco ducked his head, resting his forehead against Harry's shoulder.

"What I want to know is how you got away," Harry said thoughtfully, brushing his mouth over Draco's hair. "When they took you. Why did you only end up obliviated, if those gems were worth that much?"

"Because I legged it," Draco said simply. "One of them hit me, so I pretended he'd knocked me out. Then when they had turned away I legged it through the first door I could find."

"Simple, really," Harry said and Draco snorted.

"It helped that the guy they left to watch me whist they went to get the boss was next to useless anyway. I got the sense he really didn't want to be there. Lucky on my part really, because I definitely didn't want to be there."

Harry grinned. "And where did you want to be?"

He laughed as he felt Draco pinch him. "You know that, you insufferable arse," Draco replied. "I'm not feeding your ego."

"Shame," Harry said softly, and then pushed Draco up so he could look at him. "I'm glad you're back," he said sincerely, and Draco leant in to kiss him softly, before whispering against his lips.

"Me too."

* * *

><p>Harry sat in the armchair in the lounge, body slumped down so low that his arse was nearly hanging off the edge of the cushions. He didn't want to move, and he didn't really want to talk, either. He just wanted to sit there and watch his family, the same as he had been doing for the past hour.<p>

He smiled to himself, finally allowing the word _family_ to settle into place in his mind. It was what he had always wanted, and now, he finally had it.

Granted, his seventeen year old self wouldn't have anticipated that he'd end up with a man, and most definitely not Draco Malfoy. The original edit had been Ginny, three kids, and the house in Godric's Hollow, but he couldn't deny that the rewrite was so much better.

Draco was lying out flat on his back on the sofa, head propped up on some cushions and face turned slightly towards the television. He had been watching it but Harry had watched his eyes drift slowly shut until pale eyelashes were resting against his skin, and his breathing had turned slow and even.

Scorpius was laid on Draco on his front, his head on Draco's chest and fast asleep. His mouth was slightly open, his face turned to the side, and Harry could see that he'd already dribbled on the front of Draco's shirt. His fingers were close to his face, almost touching his chin, and he looked so much like Draco that Harry still couldn't get over it. God, he hoped sincerely that Scorpius wouldn't end up in Slytherin when he started Hogwarts, just to avoid the comparisons being any stronger or more frequent than they already would be.

It wasn't just the picture that Draco and Scorpius that made him smile; it was the fact that Al was also there, fast asleep and comfortable. He was laid out on his back next to Draco, with Draco's arm slipped under his neck. His head was resting on Draco's shoulder and Draco's arm was bent at the elbow, his hand resting on Al's chest in a loose embrace.

He let them sleep, despite the fact it would mean they would probably refuse to go to bed at a normal hour. Today hadn't been a normal day by any standards, and he was honestly too tired himself to try and force any routine. He would just let them pass the day as they chose, and was already looking forwards to crawling into bed with Draco this evening. He couldn't wait. He'd pull Draco close and kiss him sleepily, and Draco would run his fingers across Harry's shoulders and through his hair and pull him close, slipping his knee between Harry's legs and pressing kisses to his shoulder…

"Dad?"

Harry blinked himself out of his daydream and looked to James, who was quietly playing on the carpet with Al's lego. Harry wasn't even sure what he was building, but chose not to ask. It could have been a castle, though it could just as easily have been a Hippogriff.

"Yeah?"

"When are we going back to mums?"

Harry smiled. "When do you want to go back to Mums? Tomorrow? Day after?"

"Day after," James said, and Harry nodded.

"Deal."

James smiled at him and then carried on building. Harry watched him for a few moments longer, and then a noise across the room drew his attention. A soft tapping at the window heralded the arrival of an owl, sitting on the sill and waiting patiently to be let in.

Harry pushed himself up out of the chair and wandered over, opening the window carefully, just far enough so the owl could hop inside. It was a small creature with huge amber eyes, staring at Harry unblinkingly. It was carrying a long thin package with a note attached, and stood perfectly still as Harry untied the burden from its leg.

Package in hand, Harry gently stroked the bird atop it's head before turning away to unwrap the package. He carefully tore the paper off and felt a thrill run through him as a familiar length of hawthorn appeared underneath.

"Shit," he breathed, excitement and relief and god-knows what else coursing through him. He hurriedly unfolded the note, a grin spreading across his face as he heard the hurriedly scribbled words.

_Malfoy's boss had this on him. Five minutes in and he squealed like a dying unicorn – Hightops is officially going down. Thank your boyfriend for me, we owe him one._

Harry laughed in wonder, triumph washing through him. Clutching Draco's wand in his hand, he shooed the owl away and closed the window, before dashing across the room to stand by the arm of the sofa. He leant forwards and pressed his mouth to Draco's forehead, itching to wake him up and show him what had just arrived.

Draco exhaled heavily, shifting lightly and then lifted his head to blink sleepily around the room. His eyes fixed on Harry's and his mouth curved in a small smile.

"Okay?"

Harry nodded, and without another word simply held Draco's wand up. Draco's eyes went wide and his mouth fell open, and he lifted the arm that Al wasn't lying on to snatch the wand from Harry's fingers, clutching it tightly in his hand.

"Where did you get this?" he asked frantically.

"Ellis just sent it," Harry said, and held the note in front of Draco's face so he could read it. He watched Draco's eyes flick back and forth at speed as he read and re-read the message, looking thunderstruck.

"Christ," he finally managed. "what a day."

Harry laughed softly and leant down to kiss Draco again, pressing his mouth to his forehead. Draco smiled weakly and tilted his chin up again, clearly asking for another kiss. Harry obliged him, leaning further forwards so he could kiss Draco's mouth. Draco kissed him back, gently and slowly, his free hand reaching up to brush along the side of Harry's face. In that moment, Harry could have cried. Everything was as it should be, back in the right place with the danger passed and the future rising tentatively before them. He decided against it; Draco would never let him live it down if he started bawling over nothing.

"Get me a drink," Draco murmured, tipping his head so he could brush his nose against Harry's for a moment before Harry pulled back.

"Jack Daniels?" Harry asked seriously, and grinned when Draco cracked an eye open to glare at him.

"No," Draco said, emphasising his point by slapping Harry lightly on the cheek. "Tea, you moron."

Harry smiled and gently kissed him again. "Like I said, I'm so glad you're back to your normal self."

Draco smiled as well. "I'm actually starting to believe you," he said, and then pushed Harry away. "Hop to it, Potty. Tea, and I'll thank you later."

Harry nodded and headed to the door. When he was almost out of the room, he paused, leaning on the doorframe and looking back at Draco. Draco noticed the pause, and craned his neck up and around to look at Harry, the question on his face.

"You do know, don't you?" Harry asked nonchalantly. "That I think this was all worth it."

Draco eyed him for a moment, looked to Scorpius and Al, and then over at James, and then back to Harry. He smiled.

"Yes."


End file.
